


Cradle, then live without

by footloosecutloose



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Heartbreak, Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 92,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24658615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/footloosecutloose/pseuds/footloosecutloose
Summary: While on opposing campaigns, Josh and Donna strike up a secret romance. Will the pressures of politics, the bitterness of their history, and their own fear doom their relationship? And what might be left in their wake?Opens at Season 6, Episode 11: Opposition Research
Relationships: Josh Lyman & Donna Moss, Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 53
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

_27 January 2006_

**Josh:**

“How’s the Santos juggernaut?” Will asks, attempting to hide a smirk.

“Juggering great. We just opened our New Hampshire offices.” I toss my backpack off and clench my teeth a little.

“I hear if there’s a tidal wave you can paddle your way to safety.” There’s no attempt to hide his smirk this time.

“Our money’s going into the field.” I force a grin.

“Mind if one of my deputies sits in?”

“It’s your meeting.” I respond curtly as I lean against the wall.

“Would you step in here please?” Will says into the phone.

“So, why’d ya wanna see me?” I ask. I’m not here to mess around, I already have a candidate driving me up the wall, I don’t want to get into a pissing match with Will today.

“Hey, I’ve got that list of free media events for, ah, New Hampshire.” Shit. I know that voice. I stiffen and my eyes widen. She hasn’t seen me yet. “Broken down by media markets, though some of the targets spill over the border to…” She sees me and stops mid-sentence, looking like a deer in headlights. “Vermont.” She finishes.

“Hi.” I hear myself say. I’m sure my jaw is on the floor right now. Why is she here? Why does she look so much better than I remember? I feel my heart rate quickening and urge myself to get my shit together.

“Hi.” She’s smiling, but she looks almost frightened to see me. Her smile fades quickly and then her gaze drops to floor.

Will is babbling on about states and media markets. But I can’t bear to drag my eyes away from Donna.

“I’m not gonna waste your time,” he says rather abruptly. “I’m sure you have boats to sink.” My jaw clenches a little. “The truth is we’re all good friends.” Are we, I wonder? “We’re all good democrats. None of us wants a bloodied nominee, and I know you don’t want to attack the President’s record – also known as your record.” My eyebrows shoot up at that comment. Smarmy little prick. “Also known as the Vice President’s record…”

I feel a smirk on my own face. “He did clap at some of these bill signings, didn’t he?”

“Live on national television.” Will smiles. “Yes, he did.”

Donna looks uncomfortable. Fuck. I need to stop looking at her.

“I’m proposing a clean campaign,” Will continues. “No attacks, a preemptive truce.”

“I love what you’ve done with the place.” I redirect, trying to find my mojo again. Donna’s presence has shaken me, which was likely Will’s intention in bringing her into the meeting, or onto the campaign in the first place, for that matter. “It’s like the Mao Tse Tung school of interior decorating.” I grin.

Will looks pissed. “If you’re saying you’re not willing to rule out negative attacks on the Bartlet-Russell administration…”

“I’ll take it to the congressman.” I interrupt. “He decides what we rule in or out.” I fix my stare on Will to avoid it drifting to the blonde waif to my left.

“Okay.”

“Great.” I turn and go, not wanting to risk another moment of eye contact with Donna.

I’m a coward, I know.

I want to scream and punch a wall or something, but I force myself to put one foot in front of the other so I can get the hell out of enemy territory faster. While there’s likely no appropriate place for the meltdown I feel coming on, I’m relatively sure that Russell campaign headquarters would not be a safe choice.

“Can we not make this a thing?” Shit. Donna’s followed me into the corridor.

I’m a little taken aback. She’s standing so close to me and she smells like her, and fuck, I miss that smell. I miss her. There’s an uncomfortable silence while I try to find something to say. We’re staring at each other like we’re strangers.

“It’s not a thing.” I lie. Donna simply shrugs in reply.

I dig my fingernails into my palms and clench my jaw as I turn and leave.

This so is a thing.

_30 January 2006_

**Donna:**

“Ronna, it’s Donna. Donna, it’s Ronna.” Josh says exasperatedly. I feel my cheeks flush. “Can you give us a minute?” He asks Ronna.

I purse my lips. “She should stick around,” I smirk. “Your whole campaign’s like some Dr. Seuss nightmare. One fish, two fish, dead fish, we fought the good fight fish…” I’m being unnecessarily cruel. I can see that he’s stressed and tired. He looks so tired.

“As opposed to the ‘Cat in the Imitation Cowboy Hat Fell Flat’?” Josh grins.

I’m smiling, it’s my wide smile. I can feel him watching me, his own grin growing as he does. Okay, the banter is still there. Our interaction the other day had me worried, but maybe we really are okay. “Go ahead, hop on Bob.” I tell him.

“You should be with me.” He mutters quickly. “You’re on the wrong campaign.”

What? I turn my head away from him. How dare he say that to me? “You’re right. I let Russell seduce me with mindless perks like a salary and actual political support.” I shoot back sarcastically.

“What make-work job do they even have you doing over there?” He presses. Wow, that one really is a knife to the gut. Thanks Josh…

“Media targeting for the Northeast and Pacific Northwest.” I respond.

Josh’s mouth is fixed in a tight line now. “Fine. We’re still the ones with the gutsy education plan. The ones speaking the truth about the New Hampshire primary.”

“You know what Russell’s been speaking about on his trips here?” I ask.

“I didn’t know chipboard could talk.” Josh counters, he straightens his stance a little.

“White Mountains preservation, M.T.B.E., textile conversion. Local issues.” I lecture.

“You mean pandering?”

“I mean what voters want. Campaigns are about them, not us. _You_ taught me that.”

“You came here to deliver my old truisms?” Josh smirks, but I can see I’ve hurt him.

“Close.” I turn away and begin walking backwards, not breaking eye contact with him. “Letters from Russell voters to the DNC, urging them to protect the New Hampshire primary.” I shrug and hear the shutters of a few cameras. “You oughta deliver some of those truisms yourself.” I tell him.

I can feel his eyes boring into my back as I walk away. I was harsh, but he deserved it. He still thinks that I deserve to be his lapdog or something. I’m doing really well in this job, just like I did when I worked for him. I was never _just_ his assistant. He must’ve known that.

_2 February 2006_

**Josh:**

The next time I see her we’re stuck in an elevator together. Well, not stuck _per se_ , but I’ve never known a journey of four floors to feel this freaking long before.

The silence in unbearable, so I force myself to break it. “Did you just get back?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, apparently all too happy that I decided to speak. “South Carolina.”

“How’s it going for you guys down there?”

“Closing in on Hoynes,” she replies. And then we’re back to the uncomfortable silence. “You?” She asks after a while.

“We’re focusing on New Hampshire right now.” I tell her. I decide not to go on to say that we haven’t even given South Carolina one second of thought yet. I hear a quiet sigh escape me.

We make our way out the elevator and start down the same hallway. I try to fill another ugly silence with some trite conversation about hotel pools in Charleston. Donna obliges me, just barely.

It turns out that our rooms are directly opposite each other. I want to cast my gaze to the heavens and scream, ‘Oh c’mon! Give me a fucking break!’ But I resist.

I’m having trouble with my key card and she swoops in to help me. It feels like old times. She’s standing so close to me. Our hands brush as she returns my card. But then she’s gone and I’m alone in yet another bland hotel room.

I toss my bags down and collapse onto the bed. With my head in my hands, I wonder what the fuck I’m doing and why I can’t get her out of my mind. I roughly rake my hands through my hair, before abruptly standing up.

Before I know it, I’m out of my room and knocking on her door.

**Donna:**

I’m midway through undressing when I hear a knock at the door. I hurriedly throw on my pajama bottoms, but I’m only wearing a tank top on my upper half when I open the door.

It’s him. Of course, it’s him.

“Hey.” He says quietly, he has an intense look on his weary face.

“Did you lock yourself out?” I quip, but Josh doesn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes anymore.

“Can I come in?” He asks.

I make no move to allow him to enter. “What’s up?” I ask, folding my arms. I suddenly feel very exposed under his concerned gaze, and I curse myself for taking my bra off.

“We need to talk.” He tells me simply. This time I don’t pause to think, I simply move aside and allow him to come in.

I’m conscious that despite only entering this room two minutes prior, my stuff is everywhere. My suitcase is overflowing on the floor and there are campaign documents scattered across the bed. My discarded shoes, socks, and pants are at Josh’s feet. So is the bra I so hastily removed just minutes before. Josh is standing awkwardly in the center of the room, seemingly unsure what to do next. I wonder for a moment if he’s so flustered because he has spotted my ‘delicates’.

We’ve been in each other’s hotel rooms a million times before, but suddenly we feel like strangers, uncomfortable in one another’s presence.

“Sorry.” I push past him and start clearing the bed. “Take a seat.” I dump an armload of papers onto the bare hotel room desk.

Josh gingerly sits on the bed and pushes a hand through his already tousled hair. “I’m sorry, you probably just want to get to sleep.” He gestures to my pajamas.

“Don’t we all.” I smile at him. “What do you want to talk about, Josh?”

He sighs and bites his lip a little. “I dunno, _us_?” His head quirks to the side as he looks up at me.

I nod slowly. “This feels weird, I know. Being on opposing sides…” I’m wringing my hands awkwardly. I hate that he makes me this nervous. This uncomfortable. I swear I’m about to break out in a sweat.

Josh averts my gaze. “Yeah, I know.” He gestures for me to sit next to him. “We were supposed to talk before you left…” He looks at me expectantly.

I sit down stiffly and start picking at the lint on my pajama bottoms. Now I’m the one who can’t meet his eye. “I know it was abrupt.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t make the time.” He tells me quietly.

I wait for him to make an excuse, but he doesn’t, so I turn and look at him quizzically. “Why didn’t you?”

He shrugs and begins wringing his hands. “Things felt so different, y’know?” I shake my head and he continues. “After…” He gestures to my leg and then quickly looks away. It’s hidden under my long pajama bottoms, but we are both keenly aware of the mangled mess that lies beneath the flannelette.

“Gaza?” I question, Josh nods but doesn’t look at me. “Things _were_ different…” I trail off.

“Different good?” He asks, his head briefly perks up like an overexcited puppy’s.

“No.” I shrug and his head falls dejectedly. “I don’t know, Josh. So much happened.” I begin listing events on my fingers. “Leo’s heart attack. You didn’t get Chief of Staff...” I can feel tears pricking in my eyes as my voice wavers.

Josh shakes his head. “I don’t care about that stuff. I meant things were different between us. After…” He can’t say Gaza. “Germany.” He substitutes.

“It wasn’t your fault.” I tell him and I reach my hand out for his.

“I sent you on the CODEL.” Josh reminds me, he refuses my hand at first, but then gruffly accepts it. Our fingers awkwardly intertwine.

“I wanted to go.” I tell him. “And I’m fine now.” I smile, my voice strained. I can feel myself blushing, he’s gently stroking the top of my hand with his thumb.

Josh gestures over to my open suitcase. I follow his gaze and see that my pain medication bottles have spilled out. “Are you?” He sounds upset, his hand clenches round mine a little more firmly.

“Are you?” I ask defensively, as I abruptly pull my hand from his. “Because you look like hell. Are you sleeping? Eating? Taking your blood pressure meds? Speaking to Stanley?” I prod. “When’s the last time you called your mother?”

Josh’s jaw clenches and he scoffs. “This isn’t about me.”

“Oh, my mistake. This is an intervention for me?” I sneer. I’ve jumped up from the bed and retreated to the wall, my arms crossed stiffly across my chest.

“No. Donna.” Josh quickly turns his head to me. “What happened to us?” His eyes are brimming with tears.

“Josh, you were my boss. We were friends. Close friends.” I can’t look at him. “I know I upset you when I left, but you must understand why.”

Josh shakes his head vigorously. “In Germany, we weren’t just _friends_ , Donna.”

I think back to him sitting at my bedside, refusing to leave. I think about the terror in his eyes each time he surveyed my damaged leg and cut face. “Let’s not do this.” I tell him softly.

“Why not?” Josh stands and begins pacing the room.

“Because, you’re mad at me for leaving. You’re mad at me about Colin. You’re mad that I’m working for Russell.”

“I’m not.” Josh says petulantly. “Well, I am, but…” He pauses.

I’m breathing heavily now, and my tears are on the verge of spilling down my cheeks.

“I just miss you.” He says softly.

**Josh:**

I feel like I’ve just given away my trump card. Like I’ve exposed myself. I feel naked under her eyes.

She hasn’t said anything and we’re getting back to the uncomfortable silence territory.

I’ve had my gaze fixed on the ugly hotel carpet since I uttered those words. I’m so scared of looking at her, though I don’t think she’s trying to make to eye contact. In fact, it seems she’s rather uncomfortable too. But I’m chiefly looking down because I’m willing the tears that have pooled in my eyes not to overflow, and because I’m desperate to keep the sob that is eager to escape my throat from making an appearance.

“You miss me?” I hear her ask softly. She sounds so uncertain, it’s as though she’s checking whether she heard me correctly.

I gulp and lift my head a little, my eyes squeezed firmly shut. Sighing, I reply, “Every damn day, Donna.” I open my eyes when I say her name. She’s staring right at me, her mouth agape.

What happens next, happens so fast that it barely registers with me.

Donna takes three bold steps towards me and places her hands firmly on my cheeks. I lift my head to her, and before I know it, she has her lips pressed to mine.

We’re kissing.

I push back against her as our tongues meet. When I feel her hit the wall, I begin running my hands all over her body. I grab at her hips and then frantically feel my way round to her ass. Donna grates against me as her hands tangle in my hair **,** then she pushes down against my neck, forcing us even closer together.

We’re both breathless and our movements are desperate and frenzied. I slide my hands under her tank top and revel in the warmth and softness of her back. I gulp as her hands journey down my own back, before grabbing at my ass and pulling me closer to her. My hardness is pressing firmly against her stomach now, and it strains painfully against my zipper. I gasp as Donna’s lips separate from mine and she begins sucking on my earlobe.

“Aw, fuck, Donna…” I pant, as I run my hands from her back to her front and finally make contact with her pert breasts. I hear her gasp as I tweak her hard nipples. The noise makes me groan against her neck.

Suddenly, I feel her hands brush against my straining cock. I squeeze my eyes firmly shut as she deftly unbuckles my belt and unzips me. Her hand is cool around my aching hardness, and I gulp as she wraps her fingers around me and strokes me a few times. The sensation makes me gasp and I finally prise my eyes open to find her staring at me, a desirous look on her face. I feel my hips involuntarily thrust into her hand and she chuckles as she leans forward to kiss my neck.

“Christ, Donna.” I gasp as I almost come undone under her touch.

Donna pulls her face away from me and looks into my eyes. She’s biting her lip and looks contemplative. Suddenly, she releases her grip on me, moves her hands to my chest and begins to remove my tie and unbutton my shirt.

Once she has me shirtless before her, she turns me a little until I’m the one with my back now against the wall.

I grin at Donna as I watch her examine my body. She pauses when she spots my faded scar before pressing her lips against it. The sensation makes my knees weak. Donna continues her journey of kisses down my chest and to my stomach, and before I know it she’s on her knees, tugging my pants and boxers down.

“Donna…” I manage to gasp when I realise where she’s heading. She glances up at me mischievously before enveloping her mouth around my firm length, all while maintaining eye contact. “Uhhhh,” I hear myself groan out before I unconsciously tangle my hands in her blonde hair. She is using her mouth expertly and I can’t help but thrust into her. “Donna…” I warn again, but she simply looks up at me, her eyes heavy with desire.

I gulp and try to slow my breathing down. What the fuck is happening? I think to myself, as my knees tremble.

Donna wraps one hand around my cock and grasps my ass with another. The force drives me deeper into her mouth. I try to steady myself and move backwards, but Donna powerfully holds me in place. “Jesus, Donna.” I gasp as I clutch onto her head. I look down and see that her eyes remain trained on my face. “Fuck!” I hear myself splutter as my heart rate quickens. Donna pumps me faster and I can’t take anymore. I reach my climax and wildly buck against her. Then I gasp and fall back against the wall, sliding down until I’m sitting on the floor. We’re eye-to-eye now and I watch as Donna licks her lips, before grinning at me.

“Holy shit,” I hear myself mutter breathlessly. Donna’s grin grows wider. “That was incredible.” I pant.

I watch as she pulls herself up off her knees and lies back on the bed. As she turns to look at me, I realise how ridiculous I must appear – with my softening cock on full display and my trousers strung around my ankles. I struggle to my feet and pull my boxers and pants up, before kicking off my shoes and collapsing beside her on the bed, my breathing still shallow and laboured.

“You good?” Donna asks.

“Oh yeah,” I nod before turning to grin at her. “That was…” I shake my head in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Donna smiles and bites her lip.

I roll onto my side to face her and gently tuck some errant strands of hair behind her ear. I realise how close our faces are and take the opportunity to kiss her lightly. She responds instantly, and I deepen the kiss, exalting in the salty taste in her mouth. I throw my leg over hers, and roll on top of her, pressing my inexplicably re-erect cock against her. Donna groans as my hands make contact with her breasts, and I pause for a moment to strip her of her tank top. The feeling of our bare chests against one another’s takes my breath away. I pinch a nipple between my fingers as I move my mouth down her jawline to her neck, and then her collarbone. Donna squirms under my touch and I hear a small moan escape her. Finally, I pull her nipple into mouth and listen to her groan at the sensation, her hands desperately grabbing at my back.

I grin and lightly graze her flesh with my teeth. My hands, now free, travel down to her hips and Donna instinctively lifts them off the bed, allowing me to tug down her pyjama pants and panties. I pull my head away from her chest and take in the sight of her naked body, before dragging her pants all the way off of her legs and tossing them aside. It’s then that I spot the angry red scar on her left leg, and I hear myself gulp, before I reach out to touch it tentatively.

Donna looks down at me sheepishly, and I keep my eyes on hers as I press my lips to the scar. “You’re beautiful,” I gasp as I run my hands down her thighs. I smile as see Donna swallow and her breathing grow rapid. I move my head a little further up and begin doting kisses along the inside of her thighs.

I don’t typically like to go down on women the first time we’re together. It seems too intimate and brazen. But I’m unbelievably _desperate_ to taste Donna right now. I move my head closer towards her and sense some hesitation on her part. “Is this okay?” I ask, looking up at her worriedly. Donna pauses before wordlessly agreeing. I grin as I take in her earnest nod, and then move my mouth towards her slick pussy.

Donna groans as drag my tongue across her wet folds, and I feel her hands tug on my hair. I move up to her clit and lightly flick my tongue against it. Donna’s thighs clench around my head and I hear her cry out. “Don’t stop,” she begs desperately. I smirk as I continue my ministrations and move one hand up to her breast to resume my assault on her nipple. With the other, I insert two fingers into her and delight in her subsequent moans.

Donna bucks against me and I watch as she clutches at her mouth in effort to silence herself. I tighten my grasp on her breast and quicken the strokes of my tongue. Donna is breathing even harder now and her face is flushed. “Oh god!” I hear her wail. Her thighs tense powerfully. “Josh,” she groans as her hips lift up off the bed. I feel myself grin smarmily as she comes undone in front of me. Her body bucking against me before she suddenly stills, breathless and exhausted. I kiss her thighs again as I move my head out from between her legs, before collapsing beside her on the bed, a gratified smile plastered on my face.

Donna’s still panting. She has her eyes closed and an arm draped across her forehead. “You good?” I ask smugly as I survey her exhausted body.

“Mmmmhmmm,” Donna replies as she reaches down and finds my hand, before squeezing it reassuringly.

I bite my lip. “That’s good,” I smirk.

Donna turns to me and opens her eyes. “You?” she asks. I simply nod in response, and watch as Donna’s breathing begins to slow. She reaches out to me and begins tracing my scar with her index finger. “You wanna…” Donna quirks her head and looks up at me sheepishly.

I raise my eyebrows and nod slowly. “Yeah?”

Donna grins and pulls me towards her, grabbing my cock as I move to straddle her. I gasp under her touch and Donna smirks as she guides me into position. “Do I need a condom?” I somehow manage to ask.

Donna shakes her head. “I’m on the pill.”

I nod thankfully and position myself above her opening, pushing forward slightly to run my tip over her wet flesh. Donna groans at the sensation and her hips buck against me. I leer at her and propel myself forward a little. I’m moving slowly, but this seems to be frustrating Donna, as she suddenly moves a hand to my ass and lurches herself forward to meet me.

I groan as I enter her fully, and feel my breath stilt at her tightness. I wasn’t sure I was ready for round two after that blowjob, but now that I’m inside her, I’m worried I’m not going to last long. Donna is squirming underneath me and I lean forward to kiss her deeply, while moving my hand in-between us to stroke her swollen clit.

“Josh…” Donna moans into my mouth. I start bucking against her more intensely and she groans as her hands move to rest on my shoulders. “Harder,” she begs.

Oh fuck.

I groan and pick up the pace of my thrusts, while I desperately rub her. Donna’s head drops back onto the pillow and I feel her tense around me. “Jesus, Josh!” She whimpers and I watch on avidly as she gives in to her orgasm.

I follow close behind, my hands frantically pulling Donna’s legs taut around my hips as I release into her. As my throes ease, I collapse into her shoulder, my breaths fraught and my heart racing.

**Donna:**

I can’t believe I just did that.

I can’t believe _we_ just did that.

 _It_.

Me and Josh. Did it.

It all happened so quickly. Josh on the verge of tears, whispering that he missed me. Me storming over to him and planting a kiss on his lips.

Eight years of misdirection and desperate wanting led to this.

Now we’re wrapped up in each other’s bodies. A mess of sweaty, naked limbs. He’s sound asleep and I’m able to run my hands along his arms, able to place soft kisses in his hair and on his forehead. He looks so content and vulnerable. I never really get to see him this still or quiet. His mind isn’t racing a million miles a minute. He’s not nervously fiddling with his hands or bouncing on his heels. He’s simply asleep in my arms, with a knowing smile plastered on his face.

I pull him closer and tighten my grip on him. It feels so natural, and normal… But I know it’s anything but.

The clock radio’s fluorescent display tells me it’s 2:37am. That means there’s only a couple of hours before we have to go back to working on opposing campaigns. I wonder what the morning will bring. Whether we’ll be able to look one another in the eye.

I hear my breath catch as I ponder whether we’ve just ruined our friendship forever.

_3 February 2006_

**Josh:**

This morning on the Santos campaign is a lot different to all the others.

First, I’m being spooned by what feels like a naked woman. In my half-asleep state, I am taken aback, yet oddly content with this situation.

Secondly, the spooner is Donna Moss. My Donna.

As I realize this, the events of last night come flooding back to me, and I curse myself for falling asleep immediately after the deed…

There’s so much more we need to say to each other. So much that I haven’t told her, but that I desperately want to. She’s fast asleep, but I expect her alarm will go off any minute.

I think we may have missed the window for a ‘deep and meaningful’.

I don’t know what the protocol is for the morning after with your former assistant / best friend / woman you’ve been pining years for. Would she prefer that I sneak out? Was I even supposed to stay the night? I have no idea. It’s been a while since I’ve had the navigate the complexities of a one-night stand…

Fuck. I really hope this wasn’t just a one-night stand.

I roll myself over so I’m facing her. She murmurs a little, disturbed by my shifting weight and the sudden loss of warmth. Her blonde hair has fallen over her face, I gently brush it behind her ear with my fingers. She’s starting to wake up. My hand is resting on her cheek now, and I gently tilt her head up before tentatively placing a kiss on her lips. I don’t know if I’m allowed to do this, but god, I really want to. I break the kiss and pull back. She’s awake and her eyes are wide.

I suddenly feel immensely exposed and very nervous. “Morning.” I say softly, swallowing a gulp.

She tugs the sheet up higher, seemingly anxious to hide any trace of her uncovered breasts. “Morning,” she replies sleepily, a subtle smile on her face.

“How’d you sleep?” I ask, one of my hands remains on her cheek, the other rests on her back and my fingers are tracing lazy circles on her smooth skin.

“Good. I think.” She pushes herself up, taking the sheet with her and breaking contact with my hands. “You?” She’s resting against the headboard, looking flustered.

“Okay.” I prop myself up on my elbow and gaze at her. “Sorry for falling asleep…” I bite my lip.

“It’s okay,” she has a slight smirk on her face.

I watch as she glances over at the clock. “Time to get up?” I ask.

“Almost,” she replies as she studies my face. “Last night was…” She trails off and I give her an expectant look. “It was…”

“Unexpected?”

She nods a little. “Unexpected, but good,” she smiles.

“Yeah,” I reach my hand out and gently stroke her forearm. “We didn’t really get to talk.”

She blushes. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“No.” I laugh. “It’s fine. It’s more than fine, actually.” I’m grinning at her. “I just have…” My eyes dart across the room and I sigh. “I have more to say.” I exhale and see that she’s nodding intently.

“I know,” she shrugs. “I do too.”

“Your campaign’s in town for another night?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

“Yeah,” she looks down. “Do you wanna?” She gestures to the bed.

“Come over?” I ask and she nods, though I can see she’s a little embarrassed. “Tonight?”

“Yeah. Come over tonight,” she smiles.

I’m smiling broadly now. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she grins.

I glance at the clock. “I should go.”

I force myself out of the warmth of the bed and start surveying the room for my clothing.


	2. Chapter 2

_4 February 2006_

**Donna:**

He doesn’t knock on my door until it’s almost 2am. But I’m not asleep or even in bed yet. I’ve been waiting up for him. I knew he’d turn up eventually.

I’ve decided not to wear pajamas tonight. Instead, I’m wearing the only matching lingerie set that I brought with me on the road, with an old silk robe loosely tied around me.

I open the door and find him looking as disheveled as ever. “Hey,” I say quietly.

Josh’s jaw clenches as he looks me up and down. “Hey.”

“You coming in?” I ask quizzically as he stands frozen in the doorway.

“Um, yeah,” Josh chuckles nervously as he crosses the threshold. I notice that he casts an anxious glance up and down the hallway before closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he says again as we face each other. I grin at him and Josh rolls his eyes. “Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I’m bad at this…”

“Yeah?” I smirk.

“Yeah.” Josh confirms.

“How was your day?” I ask as I walk further into the room.

Josh sighs as he follows me in. “I have a rogue candidate…” He laments, and I quickly turn and quirk my head at him. “What?” he asks.

“Maybe we should set some ground rules.” I suggest.

Josh narrows his eyes. “Rules?”

“Let’s not talk about the campaigns.” I determinedly fold my arms.

Josh smirks. “Okay…”

I smile widely at him. “You’re late,” I tease.

“I didn’t think we agreed a time.” Josh replies. “Besides, you’re awake.” He grins.

“I didn’t think you’d keep me waiting so long...” I rib.

“It wasn’t intentional.” Josh assures me. I watch as he opens his mouth to say something further but ultimately decides against it.

“What time do you have to get up?” I ask.

Josh’s eyes dart back and forth as he considers the question. “Ummmm, breakfast with the team at seven. On the road before eight.” Josh responds before he takes a step towards me. “You?” He asks as his eyes run across my body.

I smirk at him. “Late start?”

Josh shrugs. “It’s the weekend.”

“Russell campaign is leaving at seven-thirty.” I tell him, watching as he outstretches his hands and toys with the bow of my robe.

“Plenty of time…” Josh murmurs as my robe comes undone. I bite my lip as I watch his eyes widen at the sight of my lingerie.

“To talk?” I ask cheekily.

“Something like that…” Josh places his hands on my hips and pulls me towards him. I sigh as he trails kisses along my neck. “I couldn’t get you off my mind today.” He whispers.

I smirk. It’s all too satisfying to hear him say that. “Yeah?” I ask and he grunts in reply as his hands roam my body. “And here I was thinking your attention would’ve been solely focused on ethanol…”

“Well, ethanol was a close second,” Josh says as he nibbles my ear. “Also, you’re breaking your own rules…”

I roll my eyes and feel Josh start to steer me towards the bed. “So, that was a ‘no’ to the talking?” I sass.

Josh grunts in response as he slips my robe off my shoulders. “Shhhhh,” he whispers. “That’s enough talking.”

I feel my legs hit the edge of the mattress and I let Josh guide me down to the bed.

**Josh:**

I’m half-asleep but Donna is talking to me.

“Do you think this is weird?” she asks, but I merely groan in response. “It’s weird right?”

“Donna…” I sigh as I pull her naked body closer to mine. “Go to sleep.” I beg.

She turns around to face me. “Josh, seriously, you don’t find this strange?”

I roll onto my back and rub my eyes. It seems sleep does not feature highly on Donna’s agenda. “There are many words I would use to describe this, Donnatella, but _strange_ is not one.” I tell her.

“What then?” Donna asks as she props herself up onto an elbow and shoots me an expectant look.

I chuckle. “I dunno, _fucking fantastic_?” I proffer and she immediately rolls her eyes. “Stop overthinking.” I urge her. “We’re having fun, aren’t we?”

Donna shrugs. “Yeah, of course.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Donna, for the love of god, please go to sleep…”

She’s silent for a while and I start to settle back into the mattress, eager to drift off.

“Did you think about this? Like before? When we were working together?” She asks suddenly.

“Donna…” I grumble, before sighing and turning to her. “Yes. I did. Of course, I did.” I pause. “In fact, more often than I would care to admit…”

I can tell she’s smiling. “Okay.”

I grin. “Okay.”

She snuggles into the crook of my arm, and I lean down to place a kiss in her hair. “Wait.” I pull away from her and sit up a little “Did you?” I question.

“Yes, Josh.” Donna confirms, and I collapse down beside her, a satisfied grin on my face. She cuddles back into me. “Okay, let’s try to sleep now,” she says softly.

I stroke her arm absentmindedly. “Donna, why did you buy a box of condoms?” I spotted the 12 pack of Durex on her nightstand when I first entered her hotel room tonight, and I know for a fact that they weren’t there the previous night.

“I would have thought the answer to that would be obvious…” Donna deadpans. “But, if I must spell it out for you, I anticipate us having _a lot_ of sex.”

I nod slowly. “But, you’re in the pill. Right?” I gulp as a scary thought flashes through my mind.

“Josh.” Donna sighs annoyedly. “Yes, I’m on the pill, but condoms are added layer of protection.”

“K.”

“I noticed you chose not to wear one tonight…” Donna chides.

I furrow my brow. “Is that a problem?” Donna simply shrugs in response. I sigh and bite my lip. “I don’t like condoms.” I admit. It’s worth noting that I have only recently come to this conclusion. In fact, I decided it last night, after having unprotected sex for one of the first times in recent memory.

Donna groans. “Okay, well, let’s pick this conversation up another time. I’m sleepy…”

“K.” I kiss her head again and settle in beside her.

_11 February 2006_

Donna just called me and demanded my room number.

She sounded more than a little pissed, so I’m currently bouncing on the balls of my feet anxiously while I wait for her to turn up.

It’s been over a week since we’ve seen each other, and in that time the tension between our campaigns has increased significantly.

I hear a hostile knock at the door and take a deep breath before I open the door. “Donnatella,” I smirk.

Donna glares at me and pushes her way into the room. “I can’t believe you sent a kid in a fucking chicken suit.”

“It was effective, no?” I ask cheekily.

“It was effective at making me look like an idiot on national television.” Donna laments.

“And getting your guy and Hoynes to participate in our debate.” I add.

“That wasn’t the chicken suit,” Donna insists. “That was the ad.”

Touché. The chicken suit really was more of ‘piss off the opposition’ tactic rather than an actual political ploy.

“What did you think of the ad?” I grin and fold my arms as I await her response.

Donna shrugs. “It was good.” She quirks her head at me. “I assume it was your brainchild...” she drones.

I grin and raise my eyebrows. “Oh, you give me too much credit. That was all him.” Donna looks mildly impressed, but she’s doing her best to hide it. “He’s incredible, right?” I prod.

Donna rolls her eyes and brushes past me, making her way towards the bed. “So, I saw Amy at the debate…”

I gulp. “Uh huh.”

“Did you two have a nice time catching up?” she asks without a lick of sincerity.

“Are you jealous?” I question, and Donna adamantly shakes her head. “You are. You’re jealous.” I scoff. “Why? Because I spent the last couple days with my ex-girlfriend?” I grin, but Donna immediately shoots me a filthy look. “In an entirely professional capacity…” I quickly add.

Donna shrugs as she sits down on the bed, before leaning forward to take her heels off. “Well, I hope her advice was helpful,” she sneers.

I shake my head incredulously. Donna is openly bitter and jealous about the fact that Amy has been working with me, and it feels kind of great. “Oh, it was. She was even so kind as to advise the Hoynes campaign simultaneously...”

Donna’s head perks up and she bites her lip amusedly. “Classic Amy.” She shakes her head in disbelief.

“Uh huh,” I lean against the wall with my arms still folded, and watch Donna closely.

She’s sitting against the headboard now, and is still trying to appear furious, despite the fact that she’s on the verge of laughter.

“It’s really good to see you.” I grin.

“I bet.” She smirks before patting the bed. “Are you going to join me?” she asks and I chuckle before pushing myself off the wall and sauntering over. “Campaigning is exhausting.” She announces as I collapse on the bed beside her.

“You didn’t figure that out when you worked on the previous two?” I ask sarcastically, but Donna ignores me.

“I’m tired all the time. I haven’t eaten a proper meal in weeks. I don’t think I’ve called my parents in months…”

I smirk down at her. “It’s all part of the fun,” I assure her, as I scoop her into my arms. “You know what else is fun…?” I whisper in her ear. I feel Donna relax into me and take the opportunity to run my hand under her sweater until I feel the softness of her stomach. It’s then that I pounce and begin tickling her incessantly, while simultaneously pressing greedy open-mouthed kisses on her neck. Donna squeals loudly and struggles to get out of my embrace. I laugh against her neck and pull her even closer to me.

“No tickling!” Donna tells me sternly.

“Live a little,” I whisper as she relaxes into me once again.

I catch a glimpse of us in the mirror opposite the bed. We’re so tangled up it’s hard to tell where her body finishes and mine begins, and we both have wide smiles plastered on our faces. We look genuinely happy. We _are_ genuinely happy.

I pause for a second as I realize the gravity of what I’m seeing in our reflection. “Donna?”

“Uh huh?”

I swallow and blink my eyes rapidly. “You, ah, you wanna get changed and go to sleep?” I ask.

Donna nods enthusiastically. “Uh huh,” she confirms.

“K.” I reply.

“Is it?” Donna suddenly sits up and peers at me. “Is it okay?” She means, is this ‘thing’ we’re doing just about sex or are we sleepover friends too?

I nod fervently. “I’m tired.” I admit.

“K.” Donna grins and stands up to start undressing herself. I watch her as she moves around my hotel room, marveling in her beauty and the fact that she’s so comfortable in my presence – even while clad only in her bra and underwear. “Do you have a t-shirt I can wear?” she asks in a hopeful tone that stilts me from my daydreaming.

“Uh huh,” I gesture to my open suitcase. “Help yourself.”

Donna bounds over and pulls out my weathered _The Cure_ t-shirt – it’s one of my favorites. “I’m never gonna see that again, am I?” I groan.

“Not a chance.” Donna tells me as she pulls it on, and while I won’t admit it out loud, she looks far better in it than I do.

Donna spends a few more minutes padding around the room, brushing her teeth – with my toothbrush, might I add – removing her makeup, and setting the coffeemaker to start brewing just before my wakeup call. “You’ll thank me in the morning,” she assures me.

I feel myself gulp as she switches off the lights and climbs into bed beside me. She cuddles up to my side, then kisses me chastely before whispering goodnight.

I successfully fight the urge to whisper something other than goodnight in reply.

God damn. I have it bad…

_16 February 2006_

**Donna:**

Josh hasn’t called me to tell me where he is tonight. He usually does. Even if we know we’re going to be in different completely states that night. He calls, just to check in.

And we’re not in different states tonight. I saw him this morning at the White House. In fact, I dragged him into a closet and broke our cardinal rule – no campaign talk – to bring Senator Rafferty’s healthcare plan to his attention. The plan that contained eerily similar language to that proposed by President Bartlet, when he was still just Governor Bartlet…

I know Josh has had a busy day since I saw him this morning. Gossip travels fast around the White House.

Maybe he just wants to be alone? I’d understand if he did. I know exactly why he’d want to be.

I contemplate leaving sleeping dogs lie, but find myself dialling his number anyway.

“Hi,” he answers, his voice sounds small.

“Hey.” I pause. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks accusatorily.

“You and Toby had a fight.” I say quietly, but Josh simply scoffs. “Josh?” I press.

“What?” He snaps.

“His brother just died.”

I hear Josh sniff. “Trust me, Toby doesn’t want anyone’s sympathy…”

“Josh,” I begin. “He’s grieving.”

He ignores me. “It was Toby.” I hear him chuckle.

“What?” I’m confused now.

“Toby.” Josh confirms. “He gave the healthcare plan to Rafferty.”

“What? Why?” Surely not. Josh must be mistaken. Toby would never do that.

Josh scoffs. “He’s upset I didn’t bring him onboard.” He tells me scornfully.

“Josh…” I sigh.

“Selfish prick.” I can hear him choking back tears.

“Josh, where are you?”

“I’m fine, Donna.” He tells me sharply.

“You were just in a fist fight with Toby.” I remind him.

“I’m fine.” He insists. “I have to go, Donna.”

“Josh!” I exclaim, but the line’s already dead.

_27 February 2006_

**Josh:**

“Hey.” Donna’s here. Why is she here?

I mean, I’m here because the congressman is here. And, he’s here because the Speaker has scheduled a vote on stem cell research, and the White House needs every single democratic vote they can to get the bill through. There’s no reason for Donna to be here, because there’s no reason for Bob Russell to be here.

“Hi,” she smiles in reply.

“I thought you were in Atlanta?” I ask. My voice is burgeoning on desperate. I haven’t seen her in weeks now, and things have been frosty between us since I snapped at her over Toby.

“White House asked the Vice President to pitch in.” Will explains.

“Important one for the President.” Donna adds.

“Vice President can’t vote.” I tell them snidely.

“But as a former House member, he retains lifetime floor privileges.” Will reminds me.

“He’s in there now?”

“Whipping support for the President.” Donna grins.

“As only a Vice President can do.” Will smirks. Okay, man, I get it. Your guy has a better title than mine. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s a putz.

“No stone unturned.” I’m kind of impressed.

“He’s wheels up in an hour, but he’ll take questions on his way out.” Will tells Cliff.

Oh yeah, Cliff Calley’s here. And so is Donna. Awkward.

“You arranged the press?” Cliff asks.

“I did.” Donna smirks.

“That’s a nice touch. Unless we don’t win this and have to sneak him out the back…” I chide.

Donna rolls her eyes. “We have the votes.”

“Ah, it’d be great. It’s why we’re all here. A win for the President.” I force a smile.

“Or… not.” Cliff says as the congressman emerges from the chamber.

“Son of a bitch.” Congressman Santos mutters.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Nothing to do with democracy. We can hit the road.” He tells me curtly.

“Why?” Cliff demands.

“The Speaker saw just how many democrats were back in town, did the math, pulled the vote.”

“He pulled the vote?”

“Game over. We’ve been had.” Congressman Santos shrugs and walks away.

“Tough break, kid.” I pat Cliff on the shoulder. He looks absolutely defeated. I start walking after the congressman but remember Donna. I turn and quirk my head at her.

She pauses before walking over to me. “What?” she whispers.

“Let me know where you guys end up next.” I tell her quietly, but Donna simply shrugs in reply, almost in a non-committal manner. “I’ve missed you.” I whisper.

She smiles slightly. “I’ll call you,” she assures me.

**Donna:**

“Josh Lyman.” He sounds aggrieved when he answers the phone, as though whoever is calling better have a good reason for bugging him. Well, I do.

“Hey, it’s me.” I tell him.

“Hey.” Oh, that’s definitely a perkier tone.

“You’re still in town?”

“Yeah…” Josh pauses. “How do you know that?”

“I just met Santos.”

“Where?” Josh asks quizzically.

“The VP’s Office. Long story.” I grin. “I can fill you in…”

“Yeah?” I can tell Josh is smiling. “I’m at my place. Do you still have a key?” he asks.

“I’ve had a key for six years. Did you change the lock?” I smirk.

Josh chuckles. “No. See you soon.”

I’m grinning from ear to ear when the call ends. We haven’t spent the night together in far too long, and I miss him. And, I know he misses me too, because he told me so – almost within earshot of Will Bailey and Cliff Calley, in fact.

I hail a cab and am out front of his Georgetown apartment in less than twenty minutes. I smile as I look down to my keychain that still holds a spare to his place. I must’ve used it a hundred times, though never for this particular purpose…

Josh is lazing on his couch when I walk in, but he jumps to his feet as soon as he lays eyes on me. He wraps his arms around me and kisses my lips before I even have the chance to say hello. When we break apart a minute later, we’re both a little breathless.

“Did the congressman tell you all about our little plan?” He smirks as he helps me to remove my coat.

“Uh huh,” I tell him as I survey his shambolic apartment.

He catches me inspecting the chaos and bites his lip. “Sorry,” he shrugs. “I kinda left it in a mess and I haven’t been back for a couple months.” Typical Josh. I roll my eyes. “You good?” he asks as he bounces excitedly on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah,” I assure him. “Thank you for inviting me over.” He simply grins in response. “I’m subletting my place and the campaign isn’t springing for hotel rooms for DC locals.”

“Russell’s a cheap bastard.” Josh jokes as he pulls me towards him again. He softly presses his lips to my neck and squeezes me. “I’m sorry I was an ass the other week. About the Toby thing…” he tells me quietly.

I shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Nah, it made things weird between us. I know you were just looking out for me…” he sighs.

“Forget it. I have.” I assure him as I wrap my arms around his neck and lean in for a kiss which Josh eagerly reciprocates. I pull back a little and grin at him. “Cliff Calley asked me out today.” I tell him with a smirk.

Josh groans and drops his hands from my waist. “Why are you telling me this?” he whines.

“I wanted to see whether it would get a rise outta you,” I admit.

“Surely you know by now that you can always get a rise outta me…” Josh says cheekily before furrowing his brow and looking intently at me. “What did you tell him?” he asks.

“I said no.” I reply honestly.

Josh nods slowly and looks contemplative. “But, like, you didn’t just say no, right? Like, you must’ve given an excuse…”

I feel my cheeks flush a little. “Oh, yeah, I think I told him I was seeing someone...”

Josh smiles widely. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He nods at me and then returns his hands to my hips. “If we’re in a sharing mood, you should probably know that I’m not seeing anyone else.” He’s looking me directly in the eye as he speaks. “And I’m not planning on starting to see anyone either.”

“Okay.” I grin. “That’s good, because neither am I.”

“Okay,” Josh loses his meddle now and glances away.

“Josh?”

“Mmmhmm.” He looks back up at me.

“We’ve got one night together. Who knows when we’ll be in the same place next? Let’s not waste it.” Josh smiles broadly. “Take me to bed.” I instruct him.

_28 February 2006_

**Josh:**

Our mornings together are usually brief. Five minutes wherein one of us searches for their discarded clothing before sneaking back to their own hotel room, while the other watches on sleepily before rolling out of bed to start their own day.

Today, though, our candidates are preoccupied by their real jobs, so we’ve both been gifted a precious sleep-in. And, of course, we’re not sneaking around some chain hotel, we’re at my place, where no nosy campaign staffers can bust us.

It’s nearly 9am and Donna is still dozing. It feels so damn good to wake up beside her, especially when she’s in _my_ bed. I’ve been staring at her for a while, kind of willing her to wake up so I can talk to her. Or kiss her. Or do other things…

But I know she’s exhausted. Mainly due to the demands of the campaign, but also because I kept her up pretty late last night.

I decide to duck out and pick us up some breakfast. There’s a deli down the street, and I could really use a bagel and some decent coffee.

When I get back twenty minutes later, Donna’s still dead to the world. But I find that the smell of a bacon, egg and cheese bagel is quite effective at lulling her from her sleep.

“You got breakfast?” she seems genuinely astounded.

“Uh huh.” I grin as I place her bagel and coffee on the nightstand.

“You brought me breakfast in bed?!” She raises her eyebrows.

“What?” I shrug as I take a seat on my side of the bed.

“Nothing…” Donna smirks. “You’re just full of surprises, Joshua.”

I roll my eyes and take a bite of my bagel. “You gotta eat.” I shrug with my mouth full.

Donna stretches her arms before propping herself up and taking a long sip of coffee. “I could get used to 9 o’clock starts,” she smiles.

“Don’t get too used to it,” I smirk. “You’ll be back on the trail before you know it.”

Donna groans. “Don’t remind me…”

“What? You’re not enjoying it?”

“Not everyone is a masochist like you…” She grins before shrugging at me. “I dunno, I am,” she starts. “It’s just different this time around. I’ve got so much more responsibility, and there’s all these new people…”

I nod. “Plus, your candidate is a total bupkis…” I jibe.

Donna glares at me. “You don’t get a hall pass just ‘cause you bought breakfast.” I grin at her, but Donna simply sighs.

I think it’s best I change the subject. “Where are you off to next?” I ask.

“New York.”

“Then California, right?” I ask eagerly.

“Who knows.” Donna quirks her eyebrows before biting into her bagel.

“You’re not gonna tell me?” I grin at her.

She shakes her head. “I’ll let you know when we get there…”

I sit back, biting my lip a little as I take her in. Donna tilts her head and looks at me quizzically. “What is it?” she asks.

I shrug and shake my head. “I dunno…” I pause for a second. “I really like this.” I admit.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.” Donna smiles broadly.

I lean towards her and place my hand on her cheek. “When this is all over can I take you on a proper date?”

Donna blushes briefly before regaining her composure. “You mean once Russell’s confirmed as the nominee?”

I purse my lips. “Not exactly…”

Donna laughs and then brings her hand to my face, mirroring my pose. “Yes, Josh, you can take me on date.” She leans forward and kisses me lightly. I think my heart literally skips a beat.

_7 March 2006_

**Josh:**

“Well, you don’t look nearly as full of yourself as I was expecting…” Donna smirks as I open the door to her.

“I think I’m still in shock.” I reply as she brushes past me.

“You’re not the only one…” she grins and tosses her handbag on the bed. “I think Will’s about to have a coronary.” She raises her eyebrows at me, then tilts her head. “You okay?”

I sigh and lean back against the wall. “I thought we were dead in the water.” I admit, shaking my head. “Leo told me the ride was over…”

Donna looks at me intently. “You got lucky,” she shrugs.

“Fucking Hoynes.” I mutter as I take a seat beside her.

“Indeed.” Donna says as she places her hand on top of mine.

I sigh. “I was feeling bad because this whole week because the congressman was just resolute in thinking he was going to come in second. Y’know? Because that’s the only way we could stay in the race.” I roughly rub my eyes with my hands. “He was about to remortgage his fucking house, Donna…” I shake my head. “I thought I’d ruined the guy’s life.”

“You won California, Josh.” Donna reminds me.

I grin. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah, neither can we…” She groans.

Her comment jolts me back into the reality that Donna and I are working on opposing sides. I gulp. “Does Will know about this?” I suddenly ask her as I gesture to her and I. “You and me, I mean.”

Donna looks at my confusedly. “Of course not!” she exclaims and I feel a flash of hurt at her adamance. I must’ve flinched or something because Donna picks up on it and feels the need to explain herself. “I just mean that I’m basically like, sleeping with the enemy…”

“Yeah, right.” I nod slowly.

“Does the congressman know?” Donna asks worriedly.

I shake my head. “I haven’t told anyone.”

“Well, neither have I.”

“It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong though…” I shrug.

“No.” Donna agrees. “It’s certainly not a Hoynes-level sex scandal.”

I roll my eyes. “Thank fuck I didn’t go back to work for that prick.”

“You always pick the good guy in the end.” Donna gives me a half smile.

I look down at our interlinked fingers and pause for a moment. “You can too.” I tell her quietly.

Donna immediately tenses. “You mean switch campaigns?” she questions and I nod fervently, perhaps with a little too much enthusiasm. Donna narrows her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“All I’m saying is we’re not a campaign without a snowball’s chance in hell anymore. Santos is the _real thing_ , Donna.”

She’s shaking her head. “I’ve just been promoted to spokesperson,” she scowls at me. “And it’s not as though the campaigns are neck and neck. Your guy got California, but mine took New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Vermont…” She trails off, then snaps her head towards me and stares me in the eye. “Russell’s _still_ the presumptive nominee, Josh. You really think that taking one state after Hoynes crashes in a sex scandal is gonna put Santos in the Oval?”

I’m not going to lie, that was hurtful. I look away and allow myself a moment to gather my thoughts. Meanwhile, Donna has leapt to her feet and grabbed her handbag. I don’t want her to leave. “Donna.”

“What Josh? What in the hell do you have to say?” she snaps.

“I’m sorry.” I hang my head and take a deep breath. “I just want you with me.”

Donna pauses and clenches her fists before exhaling abruptly and resuming her seat next to me. “I’m trying to make it without you,” she explains. “Professionally.”

“Yeah, I know.” I rub my neck and curse myself for being so ham-handed.

“I can be with you in other ways,” she says quietly. I turn to her and tilt my head. Donna reaches down and takes my hand. “We’re not always going to be on opposing campaigns, Josh.”

“I know,” I sigh. “It’s just…” I shrug my shoulders and stare down at the worn hotel carpet. “It’s hard to see beyond the campaign, y’know?”

I don’t know how to explain what I mean. It’s not that I don’t understand what I mean to say. I just don’t how to put it into words. How do I tell her that I’ve been thinking about us beyond this? That I’ve been wondering whether she’d take my surname or hyphenate? Whether we’d have a big white wedding or elope somewhere…

Because I have been thinking about those things.

That’s right. At times when I should have been focused on the development of an election strategy for the mid-west, I’ve been contemplating how I would propose…

And it terrifies me, because there’s no way in hell that I can tell Donna that.

Because I don’t know how we get from campaign hook ups in reasonably-priced hotel rooms to writing vows. Even though that’s what I want. What I _desperately_ want. I’ve never been good at this stuff, but I’m even worse at it when I’m full-on election mode, and I’m especially bad at it when it comes to Donna.

Right now, she’s looks pained by the fact that I’ve just said that I can’t see beyond the campaign, but I can’t bring myself to tell her how I’m feeling. How I think I might want her even more than I want to put Santos in the White House. Instead, I say nothing.

Eventually, the hurt fades from her face. That’s when I take her to bed. After our bodies have intertwined, we sleep side-by-side, and when we wake, we go our separate ways, before the night comes and we do it all over again…

_2 July 2006_

**Donna:**

“Are you relaxed?”

“No,” comes his grumpy response. “I’m just sweaty and horny.”

“Joooosh,” I whine.

We’re in Chicago and his hotel room has this incredible view and an enormous bathtub – perks of being Campaign Manager, I guess. For reference, my room in this same hotel is the size of a walk-in closet and looks out onto the dumpsters. Anyway, I saw his tub and immediately forced him to take a bubble bath with me.

I thought it might calm him down. At the moment, he’s even more jumpy and stressed than usual, because Santos and Russell are neck-and-neck and the convention is almost upon us.

The bath is not having the desired effect though. Josh has complained the entire time and would clearly be doing _anything_ else.

More specifically, he’d prefer to be having sex.

That’s what we do you see. We sneak into each other’s hotel rooms in the dead of night, have sex, sleep for not nearly long enough, and then get straight back to campaigning. That’s what we have been doing every night for months now, at least when we’re in the same city as one another.

And it’s been good. I’ve enjoyed our secret rendezvous. I’ve especially enjoyed waking up next to someone. It’s kept me sane while I’ve crisscrossed the country. It’s given me something to look forward to. But tonight, I didn’t want to spend five minutes making polite conversation before falling into bed together. Tonight, I need romance. I need to soak in a deep tub with Josh’s arms wrapped around me while we look out at the Windy City’s skyline.

But Josh is not in the mood for romance. “It’s the middle of summer, Donna.” He groans. “It’s not bubble bath weather. I’m fucking schvitzing here!”

“It’s nearly midnight and this room has A/C…” I lecture him, but he simply groans again. “Five more minutes, please…” I beg.

Josh sighs and collapses back against the tub, pulling me back towards him so that my head is resting on his chest. His foot is tapping against the side of the bath impatiently, and he keeps letting out annoyed sighs.

“Oh my god. You are insufferable.” I groan as lift myself out of the tub.

“Donnaaaa,” Josh moans. “C’mon, don’t be like that.”

I grab a towel and start drying myself off. “Seriously?” I glare at him.

“What?” He lifts himself out and grabs his own towel, wrapping it around his waist and following me out into the bedroom.

“You’re pissing me off.” I tell him pointedly. “Your head is clearly elsewhere.”

“And yours isn’t?” Josh snaps accusingly. I shoot him a filthy look and start picking up my clothing. Josh groans as he watches me and frustratedly pushes his hand through his damp curls. “Donna…” He starts, but he’s interrupted by a knock at the door.

We both freeze.

“It’ll just be someone with tomorrow’s schedule,” Josh assures me.

I roll my eyes and make my way back into the bathroom. I close the door behind me and then lean against it, listening in as Josh answers the door. Whoever it is, it sounds like Josh is awkwardly trying to keep them out of his room. After a few minutes I hear the room door close and Josh raps his knuckles on the bathroom door.

“All good?” I ask as he opens the door. I’m dressed by now and Josh looks downcast as he notices this.

“It was Lou…” Josh exhales and shakes his head. “She wanted to come in. I had to tell her I wasn’t alone…”

I smile widely and look down. “Oh well, maybe she’ll think you’re less of a freak of nature now…”

Josh looks at me quizzically. “My staff do not think I’m a freak of nature, Donna.”

“Really?” I raise my eyebrows at him. “To them you’re just a crazy, demanding, political pariah who works incessantly and has no discernible personal life.” I started to say it jokingly but somewhere along the way more than a little bitterness snuck in.

He looks hurt. “And to you?” he quirks his head. “What am I to you?”

I take a breath. “You’ve been a lot of things.” I say quietly.

“But right now?” Josh asks.

“What am I to you?” I interrupt him. “Seriously? What are we doing? We’ve never talked about this, not properly…” I shake my head and an exasperated sigh escapes me. “Because it feels like this isn’t personal, Josh. Me and you. It feels like it’s just convenient sex.” He shuts his eyes as though not seeing me will somehow take the sting out of this hurtful conversation. I don’t know why, but I keep talking. “Six months ago, our entire relationship changed and we’ve never really said two words about it. We just keep showing up at each other’s door’s night after night. And you know, the more I do think about it, Josh, the more I realize that actually you’re furious with me…”

Josh has turned away from me now. “That’s not true,” he says quietly.

“Really?” I scoff. “You’re not angry that I left the White House?”

Josh swings around to face me. “So, what if I am?” he demands. “It’s not like I don’t have a right. You left me!”

“I didn’t leave you, Josh, I left the job!” I tell him sternly.

“You know I value loyalty.” His voice is low and intense. “And yet, you went and worked for the other guy.”

“Who happened to be the party’s frontrunner…” I counter.

“You knew I wasn’t supporting him. _Me_. Your mentor in professional politics.” His outrage is evident.

“The guy who taught me to answer a phone, who kept me in grunt-level servitude ‘cause I knew he liked his burgers burnt like hockey pucks?” I bark back.

“You ditched me when I gave you a career.”

“As a short order cook, I’m still waiting for the spatula…” I sneer.

His scowl grows more pronounced but he doesn’t reply. Instead we stand glaring at each other as we breathe heavily. Neither of us are willing to break the heavy silence, so instead I turn and walk out of the room, slamming the door behind me for good measure.

_15 July 2006_

**Josh:**

Donna and I haven’t really spoken since that night in Chicago.

I don’t really know what happened, but it seems neither of us are in the mood to apologize. So, I’ve thrown myself into campaigning in an even more aggressive fashion than is typical. It hasn’t helped much though. We’re still dragging behind Russell and the convention is only days away. This is why I wasn’t super surprised when Will approached me earlier to say Russell was willing to offer Santos the VP slot, if the congressman agreed to release his delegates. Both myself and the congressman are leaning towards accepting, but we also think we could still _maybe_ pull this off.

And the more I watch of the Republic National Convention from the comfort of this hotel bar, the more the thought of Bob Russell as the democratic nominee for president has become unpalatable. That man stands absolutely zero chance against Arnold Vinick, and a Republican President is going to completely undermine eight years of President Bartlet’s leadership.

It’s not that I hate Vinick. I just can’t stand his policies. Also, the running-mate he has picked for himself – conservative Governor Ray Sullivan – is an even filthier attack dog than most. I shudder to think about a man with that little moral backbone being the second-most powerful man in the country.

Sullivan has the floor now, and is using his time to blast the Bartlet administration and stoke fear among the right.

“You’re not going there.” I mutter as I watch his speech. “Tell me you’re not going there…”

“Is he doing what I think he is?” It’s Donna. She stares disbelievingly at the TV. “The MS. He’s invoking the MS….”

This is the closest we’ve been to one another in a couple of weeks and I’m aching to wrap my arms around her. Instead, I continue my commentary on Sullivan’s address. “This is gonna backfire.”

“Maybe people won’t get it.” Donna shrugs.

“It’s positively sclerotic!” Sullivan announces and the Republican delegates cheer in delight.

"Okay, they’ll get that.” Donna laments.

“You’re going to hell!” I yell at the TV. The bar instantly quiets and I can feel a hundred eyes on me.

I feel Donna tap my arm lightly. “Josh, let’s sit over here.” She suggests.

“How you doing?” I sarcastically ask a couple of onlookers as Donna and I make our way to the table. “I mean, I realize the VP candidates are the designated hatchet men, but that’s…” I sigh and look down at the table.

“If Santos accepts, you can get your revenge.” Donna tells me, expertly weaving the topic into conversation. I briefly wonder if Will has sent her to get a read on me. I know he’s dying for any intel on where the congressman is leaning.

“Yeah, you think I might find five or 500 ways to call Vinick old? You want sclerotic, I’ll give ya sclerotic...” I grin.

“Santos wouldn’t do it.”

“Probably not.” I agree.

“Maybe why he shouldn’t take the job.”

“Maybe why he’d be a great choice. Restore some civility.” I say coolly.

“You want him to accept?” she asks.

“You don’t?” I look at her quizzically.

“I have concerns,” Donna admits.

“He’s not hit man enough?”

“He’s too much voltage at the bottom of the ticket.”

A-ha. She thinks he’s too good. Better than Russell.

“Overshadows the nominee.” I reply.

“Gets people wishing the names were reversed.”

“Gets people willing to wait ‘til next time.” I finish her thought and we smile at each other. “How’d you get so smart about this?” I ask.

“I had a good teacher.” Donna grins as she gets up to walk away.

“Thanks.” I say quietly.

She glances back at me. “I meant Will.”

Ouch. That stung.

I sit for a moment and take her comment in, then grab my phone and hit speed dial.

“What’s your room number?” I demand when she answers.

**Donna:**

“Are you here to grovel and apologize?” I ask him as I open the door.

“Not exactly.” Josh replies, he looks at me coolly.

“I really irked you with that Will comment, huh?” I tease.

Josh brushes past me as he walks inside. “Yeah, is it not enough that I’ve got him calling me every five minutes to check whether we’ve thrown in the towel?” he laments.

“Yes, the Vice Presidency…a real admission of defeat,” I say sarcastically.

Josh sighs and looks at me, his hands are stuffed deep in his pockets. “I’m sorry about Chicago.”

“Me too.” I reply.

“Yeah?”

I shrug. “I dunno. I meant _some_ of what I said...”

“Me too.” Josh replies.

Okay, so neither of us are really sorry? Great.

We pause and study one another for a moment. “Do you want to stay?” I ask.

Josh shrugs. “I think I need some time alone.”

“You called me...”

“Yeah,” he quirks his jaw and looks away. “I just wanted to make sure we were okay.”

“Oh, we’re just dandy…” I tell him sarcastically.

“I need to do some thinking about the offer.” Josh ignores my comment and takes a step back towards the door.

“What’s there to think about? It’s up to Santos now.” I say a little more harshly than I intended.

“We’d be on the same campaign.” Josh says quietly. He turns around to face me again.

“You’d stick around?” I question. I feel hopeful all of a sudden.

He shakes his head. “No… I don’t know.”

I want to ask him where this leaves us, and whatever this thing we have going on is.

“Does this fall over when one of us wins?” I cross my arms to brace myself for the answer.

Josh bites his lip. “I think this has already fallen over,” he tells me without any discernible emotion on his face. “Don’t you?” I avert his gaze and feel tears start to prick in my eyes. “I’m gonna go.” Josh says.

I don’t know when it happened, but I think I’ve really broken him.

I hear the door click shut and let the tears fall down my cheeks.

_August 2006: Democratic National Convention_

**Donna:**

The Democratic National Convention has just announced Matthew Santos as the democratic nominee for the 2006 Presidential Election, with Leo McGarry as his running mate. And the man who engineered the whole thing isn’t on the stage celebrating, he’s walking towards Will and I with beers in his hands.

Josh wordlessly passes the bottles to us, and then joins us in watching the television coverage.

I still can’t believe this wild campaign is really over, and that the democratic nominee isn’t Russell or Hoynes or even Baker, but instead a young, unknown congressman from Texas. And it’s all because Josh Lyman convinced him to run.

So, while campaigning might be over for me, Josh is just getting started.

I smile as I watch Leo and Santos on the stage together. They’re going to pose a formidable challenge to Vinick and Sullivan.

Will finishes his beer and stands up abruptly. He grins at Josh, before clapping him on the shoulder. “You did it,” he commends him, before walking away.

Josh simply nods and watches Will leave, before dropping his head and staring down at his half-drunk beer. He should be completely ecstatic right now, but instead he is withdrawn and flat. “Can we talk?” he asks quietly.

I glance at him and shrug. “About?” Josh shoots me a stony look and I roll my eyes. “Alright. Follow me.” I instruct as I get up from my seat. There must be a small windowless office somewhere around this convention center.

“You sure you wouldn’t rather be down there?” I ask him as I switch on the light.

Josh follows me into the room and leans against the wall, watching me as I take a seat at the empty table. “I wanted to see you,” he explains.

“Survivor’s guilt?” I jibe.

Josh bites his lip. “You were right,” he tells me. “I was angry at you.”

Okay, we’re getting straight into the heavy stuff. “I know.” I reply.

Josh gulps. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be.” I sigh and look away.

“Let me be.” Josh pleads.

“No.” I snarl. “Because I’m not going to apologize to you, Josh. I’m not sorry that I left. It was the best thing I could’ve done.”

Josh glares at me. “Really? You think working for Bob Russell and throwing mud at the next President was a great career move?”

“I thought you were here to apologize?” I snap back.

“Well, I thought I was too, but here we are…” Josh stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“You’re mad that I dissed your boss?!” I ask indignantly. “If it wasn’t for a Hail Mary pass and shit ton of good luck, Santos wouldn’t even be the nominee right now!”

“You think that’s the only reason he’s up there?” Josh demands.

I ignore his question. “Christ Josh! You called Russell a cowpoke. You said the President avoided him in the halls. You hummed ‘These Boots Are Made for Walking’ every time the press mentioned his name.”

“Yeah, but I won.” Josh looks me square in the eye.

“It was my job, Josh. You’re not used to me being in a position of authority. I’m sure that’s uncomfortable…”

“Yes, Donna, that’s what the problem was.” He tells me sarcastically. “It wasn’t because my _girlfriend_ was the one doing it.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that happening ever again.” I tell him coarsely.

Josh gulps. “Donna…”

“No. Fuck you, Josh.” I glare at him. “I’m so sick of worrying about you. Of caring what you think of me…”

“Donna.” He sounds incredibly pained, but I simply hold up my hand to silence him.

“I’m done.” I shake my head. “ _We’re done_. I can’t keep feeling like this. I can’t keep justifying why I put my career first for the first time in my life, to a person who has only ever put their career first.” Josh’s jaw is tightly clenched. “I’m not waiting for you anymore. This thing between us – whatever the hell it is – is over.”


	3. Chapter 3

_9 September 2006_

**Donna:**

I’ve been in Madison for almost a month now. I’m not exactly sure how I wound up at my parent’s house, sleeping in my childhood bedroom and paying for nothing. I just couldn’t face going back to DC quite yet. After the Russell campaign fell apart and whatever Josh and I had ended, I just wanted to get away and clear my head.

There was a job for me at the White House if I wanted it. Either working for Will for the final few months of the VP’s term, or in Communications – CJ said she could find something for me in a heartbeat. But I don’t want to be back there. The memories are too painful right now. So instead I’m hiding out in Wisconsin, nursing a broken heart and trying to figure out my next steps.

Nobody knows about Josh and I. I mean, I think my Mom suspects I’m not just this low and dispirited because Russell didn’t get the nomination, but she’s not pressing the issue. And my sister is too preoccupied with her three children to dedicate substantive thought to my moroseness. She doesn’t want to unpack the reasons behind my coming home, she’s just relieved there’s another babysitter on call.

And that’s fine. I don’t want to talk about how I feel. I just want time to figure myself out, time to heal from a hurt that has been over eight years in the making.

There’s not much to keep me occupied in Madison, and while I’m not sure this move is permanent, I thought it best to find something to get me out of bed every morning. So, I’m doing some state-level work for the Santos campaign. It’s just small stuff, nothing fast-paced or high-pressure. Mainly local issues work and securing small donations from working-class families. The grass-roots nature has been a good reminder of why I got into this line of work in the first place.

The campaign has only swung through town once in the time I’ve been working here, and when it did, I went to great lengths to make myself scarce. I didn’t want to risk a run-in with Josh. And it worked. He has no idea that I’m even in Madison, let alone that I’m on the campaign staff.

But, despite my attempts at a low profile, I haven’t gone completely unnoticed. The Wisconsin campaign lead has tried to get me to play a more active role, he thinks that I have “real potential”. He has no idea that I’ve worked in the White House or that I was Russell’s spokesperson, and I’m fine with that. I just want to play a backseat role while I figure out my next steps…

**Josh:**

“Can you please stop scaring the children…” Lou groans at me and I lift my gaze from the stack of briefing papers in front of me.

I just yelled at a bunch of the team. I’m so sick of ineptness. I’m surrounded by all this youth and inexperience, and their optimism and earnestness is no longer inspiring, it’s just pissing me off.

“This is the major leagues and none of them have the chutzpah to step up to the plate.” I reply.

“You’re being an ass.” I simply grin at Lou and she rolls her eyes. “You know what I think?”

“Actually, I don’t particularly care…” I smirk.

“I think you need to get laid.” Lou says matter-of-factly.

I splutter. “Excuse me?” I ask while I attempt to regain my composure. “Are you offering?” I ask cheekily.

“No.” Lou side-eyes me. “I’m already sorted on that front.” I follow her eyeline down the aisle of the plane to Otto.

“Jesus Christ…” I mutter as I shake my head.

“What happened to whoever you were holed up with in Chicago?” Lou asks.

I gulp. “What?”

“Chicago. Late night. You were only wearing a towel. You wouldn’t let me come into your room because you ‘ _weren’t alone_ ’…” Lou reminds me as she peers at me over the top of her glasses.

“Oh, um.” I feel my face flushing.

“Oh my god,” Lou laughs. “Who was it?”

I shake my head. “Stop…”

“This is too good.” Lou smirks. “A filthy little campaign fling. You are full of surprises, Lyman.”

I groan and sit back in my seat.

It wasn’t a ‘filthy little campaign fling’. It was six months of us finally being together. Well, kind of together. It wasn’t the way that I’d always thought it would be. We were on opposing campaigns and nobody knew about us. We didn’t go out for meals, we didn’t go to the movies, we didn’t get drunk and dance together. Maybe that means we weren’t really dating. And if we weren’t really dating, then there’s no reason that I should feel this shit. Because I really do feel utterly miserable. I feel like there’s a part of me that’s missing.

I’ve barely slept these past few weeks. The endless empty hotel rooms seem to taunt me. They serve as a callous reminder that nobody is going to knock on the door, nobody is going to sleep beside me, and nobody is going to tell me that they love me.

She left me.

Again.

Only this time I truly know what I’m missing, and the pain of that loss is utterly unbearable.

_19 September 2006_

**Donna:**

“Donna?” My Mom yells from outside the door. “What’s going on, honey?”

I’m sitting on the side of the tub in the bathroom with silent tears dripping down my face. Three minutes ago, I peed on a stick. Now there’s a clear positive sign on that stick.

It was my Mom who forced me to take the test. I’d had this weird stomach bug on and off for a couple of weeks and I barely had any appetite. I was convinced it was just the rigors of campaigning catching up with me; simply a lowered immune system that had made me susceptible to whatever bugs my niece and nephews had picked up on the schoolyard. But my Mom didn’t buy that.

“When was your last period, Donnatella?” She’d asked in her no-nonsense Italian accent. The shock on my face had been response enough for her. Gabriella Moss simply muttered “Bedda matri…” under her breath, and grabbed her car keys from the hall table. “I’m going to Walgreens,” she told me simply.

I didn’t put up a fight. I merely leant against the kitchen counter with my hand pressed to my open mouth. This had not even occurred to me as a remote possibility. But now I was doing the math. When was my last period? I remember being in New Jersey and having to borrow a tampon from one of the interns, but that was about five months ago. For the most part, periods were an inconvenience on the campaign trail so I’d often skipped my sugar pills. In addition, there was often very little advance warning before Josh and I were in the same state, and I didn’t want my menstrual cycle to get in the way of our time together.

I should have realized though. I should have noticed sooner. Now I’m holding a positive pregnancy test in my hand and feeling like an idiot.

“Donnatella!” My mother’s voice is growing more insistent.

“Come in.” I manage to squeak out and I hear the bathroom door open almost immediately.

My Mom spots my tear stained cheeks and clutches her hands to her heart. “Oh, il mio amore, don’t cry!” She soothes. “This is wonderful news.”

She wraps me in her warm arms and I snuggle into the crook of her shoulder, my tears dripping onto her blouse.

“Shhh, my darling. Everything will be okay.” Mom reassures me.

“How?” I cry. “I’m not even with the father…”

My Mom shakes her head and smooths my hair with her hand. “No matter,” she tells me softly. “You are a strong woman, Donnatella.”

_15 October 2006_

**Josh:**

My phone’s ringing. The caller ID says it’s Donna. I gulp and decline it.

This is about the eleventh time she has tried to call me within the past few weeks, and I’ve screened every single call. I also haven’t responded to the five separate voicemails she has left asking for me to call her back, or either of the emails she has sent.

What could she possibly have to say to me now? I’m in the middle of running a campaign for the Presidency of the United States for god’s sake?! I can’t be getting into a lover’s quarrel in the midst of this. Donna of all people must understand that.

The congressman side-eyes me as he sees me ignore the call. “Media hounding you for comment?” he asks.

I shrug. “Something like that.”

He nods slowly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I assure him. “Let’s talk about debate prep.” I redirect as I stuff my phone back into my pants pocket.

Congressman Santos narrows his eyes. “Okay,” he says slowly.

I take a deep breath and try to clear my head of Donna.

_7 November 2006_

**Donna:**

“We bring you breaking news and, some would say, heartbreaking news, at this hour.” I hear the newscaster say. “Leo McGarry has been pronounced dead by Dr Eliott M. Gross of the Texas Methodist Medical Centre. He was rushed to the hospital after a massive heart attack, his second in as many years. Vice Presidential candidate, White House counsellor and Chief of Staff, Labor Secretary, and decorated Vietnam veteran. The Chicago native played a major role in shaping every presidential election of the past quarter-century. Once again, Leo McGarry has been pronounced dead.”

My heart is in my throat. I was watching the election coverage with my parents when the breaking news bulletin suddenly interrupted the programming.

“Donna, are you okay?” I hear my Dad ask, but I can’t drag my eyes away from the screen that is now playing a montage of footage of Leo. I feel thick tears slip down my cheeks.

“Oh, my darling.” My Mom says as she walks over to me and takes my hand. “James, put the kettle on,” she instructs my father.

“I can’t believe it.” I say quietly as my Mom clutches my hand tightly.

“You always spoke so warmly of him, Donnatella. He sounded like a great man.” Mom comforts me.

“He was,” I croak as images of Leo’s smiling face cycle by on the screen.

When my Blackberry rings an hour later, I’m not at all surprised to see that it’s Josh calling. I’ve been trying to get hold of him for nearly two months now, but I know he’s not returning _those_ phone calls. He’s calling me tonight because he has just lost another of the great men in his life, and it has again happened on an election night. While I’m desperate to tell him about the baby that I’m carrying – _our_ baby – it’s not fair to lay that bombshell on him right now.

I take a deep breath and answer my phone. “Josh?”

I hear him sniff on the other end. “Hey,” he says quietly.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.”

“You just won Texas.” I tell him, I still have the election coverage playing on the television in my parent’s living room. Josh huffs a little but doesn’t reply. “California would put you over.” I pause for a moment. “You’ve done a remarkable thing. Win or lose, an extraordinary thing.” I tell him honestly.

“I talked him into this, into joining the ticket.” Josh’s voice falters a little as he speaks.

My heart breaks at the not-so-subtle reminder that every time someone he loves dies, Josh assumes he is solely responsible.

“Nobody _ever_ talked Leo into doing anything he didn’t want to do.” I remind him. “And he’d want you with your team. Not alone. You belong with them, it’s your night.” I pause and take a breath. “He was so proud of you, Josh.” I hear Josh crying on the other end of the phone, and I have to dab my own wet cheeks with a tissue.

“He was gonna be the Vice President, Donna.” He sobs.

“I know.” I reply sadly. I hear Josh continue to cry. “It’s going to be okay, Josh.” I say softly.

I hear him take a raspy breath. “I don’t know why I’m calling you,” he admits. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, I mean, I’m sorry for everything.” Josh insists.

“Josh, you should go be with your team.” I tell him. “Promise me you won’t be alone tonight.”

He ignores me. “You were trying to call me?” he asks. “These past few weeks…” he pauses and takes a breath. “I was screening your calls,” he admits.

“Yeah,” I bite my lip. “It can wait.” I tell him as I rest my hand on my small bump.

“I’m sorry,” Josh repeats.

“You should go.” I tell him.

“Yeah,” I hear him take a deep breath. “Donna…”

“It’s your night, Josh.” I interrupt. “Leo would want you to be with your people.”

Josh doesn’t reply for a moment. “I’m sorry for calling,” he tells me.

“It’s okay.”

“Goodbye Donna.”

“Goodbye Joshua.”

The call ends and I stand back against the wall, my hand still resting on the swell of my stomach. My Mom – who has clearly been listening-in from the adjoining room – sends me a worried glance.

“It was Josh.” I tell her and she nods knowingly.

I haven’t told her who the baby’s father is. I also haven’t told her that I was basically in a relationship for the first half of the year. But, somehow, I think that she knows exactly what’s going on.

I push myself off the wall and resume my seat on the sofa, just in time to hear the newscaster call California for Matthew Santos.


	4. Chapter 4

_14 November 2006: Leo’s funeral_

**Donna:**

Charlie spotted me as soon I walked into the cathedral. It’s as though he could sense my apprehension and discomfort. He’s really good in that way, he puts people at ease with such effortlessness.

I’m more than happy to be taken under his wing for the day. While I’ve only been away from DC for a few months and I feel so entirely out of comfort zone, so it’s good to have a friendly face beside me.

The only problem is, Charlie’s a pallbearer, and the pallbearers sit up front. So, I have to spend the entire funeral service staring at the back of Josh Lyman’s head.

I only see his face for the first time when they all stand to pick up Leo’s casket. He looks agonized and sleep deprived, and his face only grows more tortured when he spots me as he walks past with the coffin at the conclusion of the service.

All I want to do is wrap my arms around him and comfort him. But instead, I hastily pull my head away and look down.

Charlie convinced me to come back to the White House with him for Leo’s wake, but, now that I’m here, I wish I hadn’t listened. I’ve refused to take my coat off – for fear of someone spotting my bump – so I’m boiling hot, and the sights of all these familiar faces in one place is making me even more uncomfortable.

I try to remember my rationale for coming out for the funeral. It’s Leo. I could not miss Leo’s funeral. There’s just no way.

So far, I’ve caught up with Bonnie and Margaret, and I’ve briefly spoken to CJ and Zoey.

Josh and I have been circling one another from a distance, but we’ve barely made eye contact. Just being in such close proximity is making my stomach turn.

Margaret keeps trying to get me to have a glass of wine with her. “I’m driving,” I lie when she tells me she’s getting herself another refill.

As I stand alone, I wonder if now is a good moment to grab Josh away for a conversation. While it doesn’t feel entirely appropriate to corner him with this news at Leo’s wake, I’m not sure when I’ll get another opportunity.

I see Josh has just extricated himself from a conversation with Barry Goodwin and appears to be free, so I take a step towards him, but suddenly see a dark-haired woman sweep in.

It’s Amy.

Josh is smiling widely at her. They speak for a moment, before she puts her hand on his upper arm and tugs him towards the door. I watch them disappear and feel my stomach _really_ turn. All sorts of thoughts flood through my mind.

Surely not.

But, then again, Josh is a free agent. He can do whatever he wants.

I take a breath and pick up my purse. I need to be anywhere but here right now.

**Josh:**

Amy has me cornered speaking about how Carol Gelsey should be our first pick for VP, but I’m distracted and not in the mood to be lectured.

“You’re looking for Leo McGarry, Josh, and he isn’t available.” Amy tells me sternly.

Her words smart and I gulp. She glosses over my discomfort and keeps speaking, but I’m no longer listening.

Today has been such an awful day for many reasons. Principally because we buried Leo, but followed closely by the fact that I saw Donna for the first time in months, and am yet to pluck up to courage to speak to her. Though it does not seem that she is desperate to interact with me, so far, she has not come anywhere near me.

Also, nobody seems to be able to tell me what she’s doing these days. I’ve asked around, and have only confirmed that she’s not back working at the White House. But I have no idea if she’s got a job elsewhere in DC or if she’s gone back to school or something. It’s almost like Donna has dropped off the face of the earth for the past few months.

When Amy finally stops badgering me, I make my way back out to the hall and glance around for Donna.

Danny Concannon spots me and quirks his head. “I think I know who you’re after,” he says smugly.

I glance at him and bite my lip. “Yeah?”

“She left about five minutes ago.” Danny tells me. “Donna.” He confirms.

I clench my jaw. “Was she heading up to the residence?” I ask hopefully.

Danny shakes his head. “Didn’t look like it.”

“Right.” I look towards the door and try to calculate how far she could’ve gotten in five minutes.

“Josh?” I hear Ronna call. “The President-Elect’s in the Roosevelt Room. He wants to talk to you.”

I flinch and run a hand through my hair. “K. I’ll be right there.” I sigh.

_15 November 2006_

**Donna:**

“Hello?” I say sleepily into the phone.

“Donna?” An all too familiar voice asks.

I sit up abruptly and switch on the bedside lamp. “Josh?” I can feel my heart rate quickening.

“Hi.” He says quietly.

I rub my weary eyes and glance at the clock beside my bed. “It’s nearly three in the morning, Josh.” I lecture, I place my palm on my swollen belly and rub it affectionately. Sorry for the rude awakening, little bug.

Josh ignores my comment. “You wanted to talk?”

I roll my eyes. Seriously? He chooses now to return my many calls. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to speak to you for weeks.” I say harshly.

“Well, you didn’t come near me today,” comes Josh’s blunt reply.

“I wanted to talk without a bunch of people around.” I explain. Great, I’ve hurt him yet again.

“Is now good?” He asks. “I could come up.”

“Where are you?” I ask, confused.

“I’m parked outside your place.”

“I’m not there.”

“What?” He snaps.

“I’m still subletting it to that chick from Treasury.” I tell him.

“Where are you then?” He asks, his voice stern.

“State Plaza.”

“You’re living in a hotel?” Josh asks incredulously.

“I’m just in town for the funeral.” I tell him. “I’ve been staying with my folks in Madison for a while.”

“Oh.”

“Room 317.” I tell him.

“You sure?” He asks. “It’s late.”

“You’ve already woken me up, Josh.” I lecture. “See you soon.”

“317.” He replies. “K, bye.”

I end the call and am hit with the sudden realization that I’m about to be face to face with Josh for the first time in months.

I feel queasy and clench my eyes tightly, willing myself to keep it together.

Reluctantly, I get out of bed and pull a sweater on. A glance in the bathroom mirror confirms my suspicion. I look like hell. I sigh and pull my hair into a messy ponytail.

I don’t know if there’s a certain way one is supposed to look when telling a man that they are no longer romantically involved with that they’re going to be a father. Though I have a feeling, this is not it.

I call room service and order two pots of coffee. “Can you make sure to include plenty of sugar packets?” I ask. The least I can do is ensure the man is properly caffeinated when I drop this bombshell.

I glance in the mirror again. With this oversized sweater on you can barely tell I’m pregnant. That’s good, it’ll give me some time to ease into things…

**Josh:**

I knock lightly on the door of room 317. I’m still not sure what I’m doing here, and at 3am at that.

She opens the door almost immediately, leaving me little time to second guess my intentions. She looks beautiful, but very tired. I curse myself for waking her up.

“Hi,” she smiles as she pushes the door open and steps aside.

“Hey,” I can barely meet her eye. I slink into the room and glance around.

“It didn’t take you long to get here.”

“Turns out traffic’s not too bad at this time of the day.” I perch myself against the hotel desk and fold my arms.

Okay, now I’m definitely berating myself for showing up here. Seeing her is so fucking painful. I could barely handle it from a distance earlier today. Why the hell did I make myself come even closer?

“I guess congratulations are in order.” She smiles, but I’m at a loss and shoot her a confused look. “You just won the Presidential election.” She reminds me.

“Santos just won the Presidential election.” I correct her.

“With you as his campaign manager.”

I shrug and smile a little. “Thanks.”

“How are you doing?” She asks.

“Fine.” I shrug again. “Busy, but fine.” 

“It was a lovely service.”

I nod, though I’m not sure I’d quantify Leo’s funeral as ‘lovely’ per se. “You didn’t stick ‘round long,” I arch my eyebrows at her.

“You were preoccupied.” She responds. “With Amy.”

I clench my jaw. “Amy has a lot of ideas about the VP slot.” I stop myself from telling her that Amy’s dating a lumberjack.

“I’m sure.” Donna smirks.

“So, Madison, huh?”

“Just temporarily, I think.” Donna explains. “I wanted some time to…” she trails off. “Decompress.”

“Right.” I exhale. Seriously, she had to return to the comforts of home to recover from the trauma of dating me? “So, you’re working there?”

Donna shrugs. “A little. Here and there.” She’s leaning against the wall, wearing old pajama bottoms and a ragged sweater. “I actually did some work for the campaign in Wisconsin.”

I glance up at her quickly. “Really?” How did I not know this?! I was the campaign manager for god’s sake!

“Yeah, it was nothing major. But it was kind of nice to be on the trail in a removed way, y’know? Home by 5pm, same bed every night.”

I nod slowly. “Right.”

“I’ve been thinking about coming back to DC now it’s over though. I’m looking into a few jobs.”

My head quirks up again and I smile, “I know where there are quite a few openings…”

Donna bites her lip. “Josh, I…” A knock at the door interrupts her.

“Are you expecting someone?” I ask quizzically, barely concealing the jealous rage that has just come over me.

She shoots me a glare. “I ordered us coffee.” She replies simply.

Fuck. I am such an idiot.

She opens the door and directs room service to place the tray on the desk. I spot an excessive pile of sugar packets stacked on the tray and try to suppress a smile. I’ve gotta give her credit, she knows me incredibly well.

“This one’s the decaf, ma’am.” The bell boy tells her, pointing to a pot of coffee.

“Thanks,” she sees him out and shuts the door. “Help yourself,” she gestures to the tray.

“Decaf?” I ask.

Donna looks startled. “Ah, early flight tomorrow.” She explains.

I nod and grab a cup of coffee, stirring three too many sugars into it. “Me too, actually.” She raises her eyebrows. “I’m going to LA. Gonna try convince Sam to be my Deputy.”

Donna nods. “Right. That makes sense.” She pours herself a cup. “You think he’ll take it?”

I ignore her question. “What was it that you wanted to talk about?” I ask as I take a long sip of coffee.

Donna pauses and straightens up. “Why didn’t you return any of my calls or messages?”

I flinch. I guess we’re done with the pleasantries then. “The campaign was keeping me pretty busy, Donna.” I snap back.

She nods but looks downcast. “I know I hurt you,” she says quietly. “Again.” She sighs.

I shake my head. “Ancient history.” I tell her bluntly. It’s not, it’s really not. But I’d kind of like her to believe that I haven’t given our time together a second thought.

“Right.” She leans back against the wall. Oh god, she actually thinks I haven’t given our time together a second thought.

I place my cup down hurriedly, splashing coffee on the desk. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you. I just didn’t have the…” I pause, my hands are flailing around as I seek to explain myself. “Emotional bandwidth to deal with this… Us.” I gulp a little. “I felt like we owed it to one another to make sure we did this properly.”

“Did what properly?” Donna asks.

“I dunno, the break up chat?” I offer weakly.

Is that why I’m here? That’s why I’m here. Right? I don’t know. Maybe Donna doesn’t think that whatever we had was enough to even constitute a break up when it ended.

“That’s not…” Donna sighs and looks confused. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about.” She folds her arms. “Besides I thought we had the ‘break up chat’ months ago. You know, when we broke up? You really thought I’d be calling to rehash that conversation?”

I feel stupid. “No. I don’t know.” I start pacing around the room. Clarification of the break up has oddly put a slight spring in my step. At least we’re on the same page about there having been a relationship. “Were you calling to try and work things out?” I can’t hide the trace of optimism in my voice. I dig my nails into my hands and curse myself for ignoring her for the past few months.

“You think we can work this out?” Donna asks.

“Maybe. Without the distraction of politics, maybe.” I stop pacing and look at her.

She looks amused. “Yes, I’m sure politics won’t be a distraction when you take up your role as White House Chief of Staff.”

Exasperated, I run a hand through my hair. “I really don’t know what you want from me, Donna.”

She looks hurt. “I don’t want anything, Josh. Well, I wanted you to pick up the phone seven weeks ago, but I don’t want anything now.”

Seven weeks. That’s oddly specific. Has she been counting?

“I’m sorry.” I tell her again.

Donna ignores my apology. “Josh, I need to tell you something,” she has her eyes closed.

I feel a pit of dread in my stomach. Oh god, she’s going to tell me that she’s met someone. I can’t bring myself to look at her. I glue my eyes to the floor.

“I’m pregnant, Josh.”


	5. Chapter 5

_15 November 2006_

**Donna:**

He hasn’t said anything. Why in the hell hasn’t he said anything?

He’s standing there with his arms folded and his mouth agape, just staring at me.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but I think it involved a little more conversation and a little less dumbfounded silence.

“Josh.” I press. “Say something.”

He places his hands on the back of his head and exhales, before bringing one hand to his open mouth. His nervous fidgeting has reached new heights. “Is it…?” He gestures to himself.

I nod. “There hasn’t been anyone else,” I tell him quietly. “You’re the only person I’ve been with for quite some time.” I don’t want to tell him quite how long. He’s nodding slowly, his mouth still hanging open. “Josh?”

He starts pacing up and down the narrow hotel room, his hands on his hips now. “How far along are you?” He still can’t meet my eye.

“Almost five months.”

His eyes grow wide. “And you’re just telling me now?!” He says incredulously, his voice raised.

I walk into his path and stop him from taking a further step. “Look at me.” I tell him sternly, he reluctantly raises his brown eyes to me, a snarl etched upon his face. “I have been calling you every other day for weeks.” He gulps and takes a step back. “I only found out when I was already three months gone.”

He turns abruptly and walks away from me. “You’re keeping it?” I hear him ask, his back to me still.

“Yes.” I respond simply as I watch him sit down on the unmade bed. This part isn’t up for discussion so I’m not even going to bother giving him my rationale. I walk over and join him on the bed. “I’m telling you because you deserve to know, but I don’t have any expectations. You can be as involved or uninvolved as you’d like to be.”

I’m conscious that I sound extremely ‘matter-of-fact’ right now, but in my experience, Josh Lyman does not respond well to ambiguity.

He shoots me a glare. “What the fuck are you talking about? It’s my kid, of course I’ll be involved.” He stands up and returns to his pacing. “God, Donna. Do you know me at all?!”

I sit back, a little unprepared for the viciousness of his outburst. “Sorry.” I mumble weakly.

He stops in his tracks and quickly walks back to me, crouching beside the bed. He gingerly reaches out to touch my hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

I’m shaking. “It’s okay.” I tell him, as I start to feel tears slipping down my cheeks.

“Fuck.” Josh mutters, he stands up and scans the room before returning with the box of tissues from the nightstand.

“Sorry,” I whisper as I dab my eyes with a tissue from the box he is extending. “I’m a hormonal wreck. I’ve been crying at the drop of a hat lately.” The tears won’t stop streaming down my face.

Josh sits on the bed next to me and tentatively places an arm around my shoulders. “It’s okay.” He says quietly.

I feel him press a kiss into my hair as I burrow into the crook of his neck and continue crying.

“I’ve missed you so much.” I bawl as he rubs my shoulder. His other hand has found mine, our fingers tightly interlinked.

“Shhhh.” Josh says reassuringly.

“Are you okay?” I manage to ask him, in-between sobs.

I feel him stiffen next to me. “I’m a little surprised,” he admits.

“A little?”

“I’m _very_ surprised.” He looks down at me and reaches out to wipe an escaping tear from my eye. He looks uneasy with the prolonged eye contact, and I see his gaze shift to my stomach.

I push away from him and straighten up a little. “I’m hardly showing.” I tell him as I smooth my sweater over my stomach. “No one said anything today. At the funeral, I mean. I had a big coat on.” He reaches out to touch my stomach but suddenly withdraws his hand. “It’s okay.” I pull his hand towards me, and lift up my shirt so my belly pokes out.

He touches my bump tentatively, his eyes wide. “Can you feel it move yet?”

I place my hand over his and press down firmly. “It started a couple of weeks ago. Small flutters at first, but there’s actual kicks and stuff now.” Josh looks amazed, and outstretches his hand further. “I think little bug’s sleeping at the moment.” I explain.

“Little bug?” Josh asks, retracting his hand.

I roll my eyes. “Oh, it’s just something my Mom and I have been calling it.”

“Your Mom knows?” His voice just went up about three octaves.

I gulp. “Not about you,” I explain. “But the baby, of course.”

Josh nods slowly but doesn’t say anything. I feel compelled to continue talking.

“They’re all really excited.” I grin, but Josh looks at me confusedly. “My Mom and Dad, and my sister.” I explain. “Plus, my niece and nephews. They’re thrilled to be getting a cousin.”

Josh looks completely overwhelmed at this point.

“My Mom’s been coming along to all my appointments.” I continue.

Josh bites his lip and looks down. It turns out impending fatherhood does not look great on everyone.

“Oh, that reminds me.” I jump up and grab my handbag. “I have pictures!” I rifle through my bag and thrust a photo towards him.

Josh looks utterly mesmerized as he studies the ultrasound. Okay, maybe I have been a little too quick to judge. “That’s it?” He asks, holding the photo delicately with both his hands.

I lean forward. “Yep, that’s the spine there,” I point. “And you can kind of see the outline of the brain in this one.”

“Wow.” His lips are cast in a perfect ‘O’.

I smile. “My obstetrician said everything looks great. Little bug is meeting all of their milestones.”

Josh grins. “Little bug.” He nods. “Do you know what little bug is?” He turns to me.

I shake my head. “I haven’t asked, but they can tell from the scans by now.” He looks a little disappointed. “I can ask at the next one, if you’d like to know.”

He bites his lip. “I don’t wanna…” he pauses. “Impose. If you’d prefer to be surprised, I mean.”

I roll my eyes. “Josh, I just haven’t asked yet. We can find out. I’ll have them tell me at the next scan.”

“When’s that? The next scan?”

“Um, this coming Tuesday.” I respond, rubbing my belly absentmindedly.

Josh looks concerned. “In Madison?”

I nod and his head falls. I can see he’s disappointed. “I can call you right after.” I offer weakly.

Josh’s jaw is clenched and he’s not looking at me. “Yeah, okay.” He says quietly.

“Maybe I could ask my obstetrician to refer me to a DC practice for a one-off scan?” I suggest and Josh’s head perks up. “That way you could be there for one of them.”

“That would be nice,” he smiles. “When are you in town next?”

“Ah, I don’t really have anything confirmed right now.” I explain. “I’ll figure something out though. We can find a time that fits in with your schedule.”

“But you’re planning to move back here, right? You’ll have the baby here?” His voice is getting high-pitched again.

I really haven’t got this far ahead. “Actually, I think I’ll probably have the baby in Madison. My Mom wants me to, so she can help me and everything.” Josh narrows his eyes. “Plus, y’know I’m already set up with the obstetrician there. It just makes the most sense.”

“There’s plenty of doctors in DC.” Josh says, a scowl on his face.

“I know, it’s just there’s a lot that makes sense about staying in Madison.” Josh raises his eyebrows and gestures for me to explain. “I’m not working right now and my parents are putting me up. There’s plenty of people there to help out…” I trail off because I can see Josh growing more and more agitated.

“You said you were looking for work in DC.” He’s actually pouting now.

“I am, but I won’t be able to work for at least a few months once the baby’s here. And my place here is tiny, it’s not exactly suitable for an infant. Plus, daycare, rent, utilities, hell everything, is so much more expensive in DC.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.” Josh tells me and I shoot him a confused look. “Money.” He explains. “I’ll look after that side of things.”

“Josh,” I roll my eyes. “That’s not what I’m asking for.”

He ignores me. “We can get a bigger place. In the suburbs, maybe. Spring Valley?”

“What?” I laugh. He has officially lost his mind.

“I’ll sell my apartment and we’ll get a house. Backyard, pool, the works.” Josh is nodding to himself. I can see his mind is racing a mile a minute.

“What do you mean?” I ask incredulously.

“And we should get married.” He continues. “We could organize something small, before…” He gestures to my bump. “You could take as much time off work as you wanted. You wouldn’t have to worry.” He pauses to study my face. “But, of course, if you wanted to go back early, we could get a nanny or something. Or daycare. Whatever you think’s best.”

“Josh, what the hell are you talking about?” I snap.

He ignores me, choosing instead to pose yet another question, “You think the chick from Treasury would be willing to take over your lease completely?”

“Can you stop?! Please.” I tell him sternly, and he turns to me with a scowl on his face.

“What?” He barks.

“We’re not getting married. We’re not buying a house in Spring Valley. And we’re not getting a nanny. Okay?!”

He looks furious. “Well, I’m not gonna have my kid living a thousand miles from me, Donna. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Josh, it wouldn’t be forever. Just until I’m on my feet.”

Josh shakes his head and holds up a hand to silence me. “No, Donna. It’s not happening. You’re gonna have to move to DC.” He’s up and pacing again. “Seriously, how often do you think I’m going to be able to visit Madison?!” He laughs incredulously. “With my job?!”

I can feel tears pricking in my eyes. “Can you just stop? Please?” I beg.

**Josh:**

Donna’s crying again. I’ve made her cry twice in the twenty minutes I’ve been here. That’s gotta be a record, even for me.

Though she has completely changed my life in the same amount of time. So somehow, maybe we have kind of broken even.

“Sorry,” I tell her, running a hand through my hair.

Donna presses a balled-up tissue to her tear-stained cheek but doesn’t respond. I bite my lip and wring my hands as I make my way over to where she’s sitting on the bed. “I’m sorry, Donna.” I repeat as I take a seat next to her.

She shakes her head. “Don’t worry,” she mumbles.

I roll my eyes. “Donna,” she looks at me expectantly and I sigh. “This is a lot to take in...”

She huffs and rolls her eyes at me. “Yeah, so was your quasi-proposal and the announcement that we’re moving to the suburbs.”

Ouch.

“You don’t think that would make sense?” I prod.

“No, Josh.” She folds her arms. “None of this makes sense. So how about we don’t complicate things further with a quickie wedding and an ill-advised real estate purchase?” She raises her eyebrows as if to say ‘check and mate’.

“So, what? You’re gonna stay in Madison?” I feel my lip snarl upwards.

Donna shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“I can leave DC.” I tell her suddenly.

What the fuck? Where in the hell did that come from?! It seems I’ve decided to abandon my career and shift to the cheese state.

Her eyes widen and she raises her eyebrows at me. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am.” I respond confidently. At least I’m pretty sure I am…

“You just put Santos in the White House. There’s no way you can walk away.”

“Well, I did that when I didn’t have a family.”

Oh wow. I’m going to have a family. I really didn’t think that was ever in the cards for me. I figured I’d long passed the point at which that was even a remote possibility…

Donna blushes. “Josh. Don’t make any rash decisions.”

“It’s not a rash decision. I’m going to be someone’s father. I think the least I could do is actually be present for that...”

“You’d go crazy in Wisconsin. There’s nothing for you to do there.”

“I’m sure parenting would keep me sufficiently occupied.”

Another exasperated sigh slips out from Donna, and she squeezes her eyes shut. “I knew you wouldn’t make this easy.”

“I’m not trying to make it difficult.” I attempt to assure her. My hand finds hers again. “I thought DC was your home?”

“It is. It was. I dunno.” Donna shakes her head as she wraps her fingers around mine.

“Maybe we just see how it goes for a while? I can help you get set up here again, and if it’s really not working, maybe we could relocate?”

“You keep saying ‘we’. We’re not together, Josh.” Donna turns and looks me in the eye.

I feel my lips contract into a thin line. “I know.” I reply through gritted teeth. I abruptly tug my hand away from hers and stand up.

“It’s pretty clear a relationship is not the best idea for us,” she continues.

The last thing I want to do right is now cross-examine our failed relationship. I have a feeling it would be pretty easy to come to the conclusion that it all fell apart because I am an emotionally-stunted jackass.

“Right.” I cut her off. “So, we live separately? Take the kid week about?” I place my hands on my hips and raise my eyebrows expectantly.

“It’s called co-parenting,” Donna explains. “We can work out the finer details as time goes on. But I don’t think ‘week about’ is going to work too well. At least not for the first year.”

“Yeah,” I rub my neck and turn away. “Probably not.” Balancing a newborn and an 80-hour work week on my own sounds god damn impossible. I could barely look after myself last time I was in the White House, let alone a hapless infant.

Donna sighs. “There’s so much that I haven’t even thought about yet.”

She looks absolutely exhausted, and appears to be even more overwhelmed than me. And, I gotta tell ya, I’m pretty fucking overwhelmed right now.

“We’ll figure it out as we go.” I say quietly.

I find myself collapsing down beside her on the bed again. I lean back and stare up at the hotel room ceiling, my hands behind my head. Donna looks back at me but remains sitting rigidly upright.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks, a worried look on her face.

I shake my head and chuckle a little. “How did this even happen?” I grin in disbelief.

Donna looks embarrassed. “We were never 100 percent careful, Josh.”

“Yeah, because you were on the pill.” I retort.

“The pill’s not foolproof. That’s why we used condoms too.”

I roll my eyes. “We always _intended_ to use condoms.” I smirk at her.

“Right.” She blushes and turns away.

It’s kind of weird to be discussing our sex life. The sex life the two of us once shared, but no longer do.

“It doesn’t matter.” I tell her. “It’s good news.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince myself or her.

Donna chuckles. “My Mom keeps saying ‘All babies are blessings, Donnatella!’”

Donna always puts on this thick Italian accent when she impersonates her mother. Hearing it again makes me nostalgic for late nights at the office. Nights filled with not so subtle flirty banter and copious amounts of laughter.

“I think she’s worried I’m gonna change my mind and get a late-term abortion.” Donna continues.

I bolt upright. “What?”

Donna doesn’t seem to notice the seriousness of my tone. “Y’know, my folks they’re quite conservative. They kind of roll their eyes at my politics and stuff. But they’ve actually been remarkably supportive about this whole ‘baby out of wedlock, single mother’ thing.” She tells me.

Fuck. It just occurred to me that I’m going to have to have a very awkward conversation with my mother. “I guess I should tell my Mom.” I say in a nervous tone.

Donna gives me a small smile. “You think she’ll be happy?”

I grin and quirk my head at her. “She’s going to be over the freakin’ moon, Donna. She finally gets that grandchild she’s been harping on at me about for the last ten-plus years…” I trail off and look down at the hotel bedspread. “She’ll be even happier that it’s with you.” I tell say quietly.

Donna touches my arm softly. I meet her gaze and see her smiling at me. “Your Mom’s great,” she tells me. “We always got on really well.”

I nod earnestly, thinking back to the long days and nights the two of them spent together in my hospital room after Roslyn.

“You know she’ll be pushing for us to…” My eyes dart away from Donna. “Y’know…” Donna stops rubbing my arm. “Get together.” Donna turns away. “Or, get back together.”

“Josh.” Donna’s voice is strained.

“Donnatella.” I push myself up onto my elbows and watch her.

“It’s really late,” she stands and busies herself with our empty coffee cups. “What time’s your flight?”

“Six thirty.” I reply. I know she wants me to leave, but that’s the last thing I want to do. “From Dulles.” I glance at the clock; my flight is only a couple of hours away.

“Mine’s at nine. Reagan.” She surveys the room for further things to straighten up.

“Any chance you could move it?” I ask, and she looks at me quizzically. “I just mean, there’s so much more to talk about. I’ll be back from LA in the evening, it’s a really quick trip.”

Donna shakes her head. “Josh, this was last minute and the flight wasn’t cheap.” She pauses and gestures to the hotel room. “Hell, I’m paying for this with points I collected on the campaign trail.” She laughs to herself.

“I’ll cover the cost of the flight change. And the hotel.” I stand and walk towards her. “Please, Donna.” My hands are grasping at her upper arms.

She pauses and looks down at my hands, before shifting her gaze to meet mine. I must be looking incredibly desperate because it doesn’t take long for her to relent. “Okay,” she says quietly. 

I smile. “Thank you.” I fumble in my pocket for my wallet and then pull out a credit card. “Use this.” I thrust the card towards her. “Maybe you could stay here for a couple days longer? Fly out after the weekend?”

She takes the card reluctantly. “Josh, this is too much…”

“You never used to say that when I handed you my AMEX.” I laugh.

She rolls her eyes. “Well, I’m not your assistant anymore,” she walks over and opens the door for me and I see a wave of discomfort shoot across her face.

“What?” I ask, following her to the door.

“I’m your baby mama.” She cringes.

I laugh at her realization. “Should I be offended that you’re quite so disturbed about that fact?”

She grins and looks down. “It’s not just your Mom that you have to tell, Josh.” She tells me in a small voice. I narrow my eyes and look at her. “You need to tell the President-elect too.”

Shit. She’s right. I bite my lip and rake a hand through my hair. “Yeah.”

“Probably sooner rather than later.” Donna suggests, her hand is resting on her bump.

I decide not to worry about that right now and instead reach out and place my hand above hers.

“We’re having a baby, Donna.” I smile broadly.

**Donna:**

I’m still figuring out exactly why I decided to extend my time in DC. Aside from Josh begging me to and footing the whole bill…

I’d told myself that I’d just tell him and leave it at that. That way he’d have time to properly think things through, and if he had any questions, we could discuss them over the phone. Instead, I barely hesitated when he suggested I stick around for a more few days. I think the truth is, I want to spend more time with him. But additionally, not having to get up to catch an early flight or leave the comforts of a gorgeous hotel room kind of sealed the deal.

I’m pregnant, bloated, grumpy and tired, and despite how much I’ve enjoyed staying with my parents the past few months, a couple more days out of their home was a rather attractive proposition.

I’ve literally done nothing today. I slept-in, ordered a late breakfast to my room, and for the past few hours I’ve been lounging about in a soft bathrobe, watching crappy daytime television, and jotting down potential baby names whenever inspiration hits.

My phone rings just before 3pm and I see its Josh calling. Seeing his name lit up on the small screen instantly springs me from my life of leisure and transports me back to the glaring reality in which I find myself.

I should probably answer it, he is my baby daddy after all…

“Hello?”

“Hey.” Josh sounds rather nervous.

“Hey.” I can’t help but smile at his awkward tone.

“How ya doin’?”

“Okay. What did Sam say?”

“Oh, he’s thinking.” Josh says flatly.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, I guess...”

“You didn’t expect him to say yes just like that…” I smile disbelievingly.

“Kinda!” Josh exclaims.

“I’m sure he’s got stuff to figure out.”

“What stuff? It’s service to the President, what stacks up against that?”

Oh, I can think of a few things, Joshua. “Well, not everyone’s like you. So…”

Josh cuts me off. “Dedicated?” He asks in a hopeful tone.

“Monomaniacal.” There’s silence on the other end of the phone. “Was there something else?” I ask, trying to quickly move on from the jibe I just so carelessly proffered.

More silence. Fuck, I think I’ve actually bothered him with that remark.

“There must’ve been something.” Josh says. “Oh yeah, ah, um, are you gonna be around?”

“Yes, Josh. That was kind of the point in me extending my stay…” I remind him.

“Right. I get in kind of late, but maybe I can come over?” Josh pauses. “To talk.” He quickly clarifies.

“Sure. I’ll be around. Just call me when you’re on your way.”

“Okay then. Okay.” He still sounds very unsure of himself.

“Have a good flight.”

“Yeah, you too.” He pauses. “I mean, not you too. _Obviously_.”

I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. “Bye.” I manage to say before I end the call.

_16 November 2006_

**Josh:**

It’s coming up to one in the morning by the time my flight lands. A lot earlier than last night, but still quite late. I know she’s tired and I probably shouldn’t keep her up two nights in a row, but I really need to talk to her. I really _want_ to talk to her.

I signal a waiting taxi and press my phone to my ear.

Donna picks up almost immediately. “Hey. Did you just land?”

“Hey,” I smile. “Yeah, just getting a cab. Am I too late?”

“No, not at all. I’m up.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

“See ya.”

I end the call and open the car door, throwing my overnight bag and winter coat in before me. “State Plaza Hotel, thanks.” I tell the driver.

I’m almost asleep myself by the time we pull up. I tried to answer a few emails on my Blackberry during the drive, but I’ve barely had four hours sleep in the past 48 hours, so my ability to type a meaningful sentence is rather impaired.

I fumble through my pockets for some cash and thrust it towards the driver.

“Thanks. Enjoy your stay in DC.” He tells me as I gather my things to leave.

I glance at him confusedly, and then recall that he has just picked me up from the airport and dropped me at a hotel. “Ah, thanks.” I reply.

I toss my coat over my arm and make my way towards room 317.

**Donna:**

Josh smiles wearily at me as I open the door to him.

“Hey,” I grin as he walks in and tosses his overnight bag on the floor. He’s about to drop his woollen coat on top of it, but I raise my eyebrows at him and he folds it over an armchair instead.

“Good trip?” I ask, following him into the room.

Josh rubs his neck and scrunches up his face. “Yeah,” he shrugs. “I dunno. I’m not sure it was worth the hassle.”

“Have you eaten?” I ask as I study him further. He looks even more disheveled than usual, and that’s really saying something.

“A little. On the plane.” He replies, but I don’t have his full attention, he’s busy thumbing through messages on his Blackberry.

“I can order something, if you like?” Josh doesn’t look up; he’s focused on furiously typing a message on his phone. “Josh?” His head perks up. “Do you want room service?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m fine, Donna. Don’t worry.”

“Really? Because I could do with something to eat.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm. I’m averaging like seven meals a day at the moment.” I smirk at him.

Josh grins. “Okay. Maybe a burger?” He suggests.

“Burnt to a crisp?” I raise my eyebrows at him. Josh’s eyes light up and he nods enthusiastically. “A healthy choice.” I mutter sarcastically.

Half an hour later we’re both sitting cross-legged on my hotel bed. Josh is devouring his charred burger and I have a bowl of pasta that I’ve barely touched.

“I thought you said you were hungry?” Josh asks in-between bites.

“I am,” I sigh. “I just don’t feel like pasta anymore.” I lean over and study his plate. “Can I have that pickle?” I ask hopefully.

Josh rolls his eyes and pushes his plate towards me. “I suppose you want my fries too?” He says exasperatedly.

“Well, if you’re offering…” I grin and grab a couple.

Josh groans. “You could’ve just ordered your own, you know.”

“Well, little bug was in the mood for pasta but then they changed their mind…”

Josh shakes his head disbelieving. “Yeah, because you never did this before you were pregnant…”

I hit his arm playfully. “Cut it out, I’m growing your offspring!” I joke.

Josh suddenly averts his gaze and clenches his jaw. “Yeah, about that…” He wipes his face with his shirt sleeve. “We never really settled on where you were gonna live last night, DC or Wisconsin.”

I nod slowly. “No, I guess we didn’t.”

“So, have you given it anymore thought?” Josh continues, a serious look on his face.

“Honestly?” I place my hand on my bump and rub my thumb back and forth over it. “Not really.”

Somehow, I don’t think that’s what Josh was wanting to hear. I watch as his jaw clenches again. “Right.”

I bite my lip. “I think I just need a little more time, Josh.”

Josh leans back against the headboard. “Well, how much time have we got, Donna?” He says sternly.

“Due date is the sixth of March.”

Josh chuckles. “Smack bang in the middle of the first hundred days,” he shakes his head and grins. “Jesus Christ.”

Of course, he has to make the birth of our baby political… “Oh, I’m sorry is that not _convenient_ for you?!” I snap at him.

Josh glares at me. “I don’t think this is _convenient_ for anyone, Donna.” He tells me through gritted teeth.

“Well, don’t let us hold you back.” I spit the words at him, but I falter towards the end of the sentence and have to choke back tears. I hate how every time I get angry with him, I start to cry. I’m not upset. I’m fucking furious.

Josh is up and pacing now. “Oh, can you give it a rest?” He stops and turns to me, his hands on his hips. “I told you that I’m in. Don’t act like you’re all alone.”

I glare at him. “You’ve been _in_ , for less than 24 hours, Josh.”

“And whose fault was that!!!” Josh yells, his hands flailing. “Fuck!”

I purse my lips and take a deep breath. Josh turns away from me and I watch as his shoulders rapidly rise and fall. I can tell he’s trying to calm himself down.

“Josh.” He ignores me and walks over to the wall, before turning and pushing his back against it. I recognize it as one of Stanley’s recommended coping mechanisms. Josh’s eyes are screwed tightly closed and his breathing slowly returns to normal. “Josh.” I say again. “The baby’s kicking.” He opens his eyes and snaps his head to me. I nod my head and rub my belly. “Come feel.” I urge him.

He walks over slowly and takes a seat beside me before tentatively placing his hand next to mine.

Little bug continues making their presence known. “Did you feel that?” I ask. Josh nods solemnly, his hand outstretched. “Pretty wonderful, huh?”

He nods again. “Yeah,” he agrees, before looking up at me concerned. “Did I wake it up?” He asks. “When I was yelling?”

I shrug. “Who knows,” I tell him, but he looks crestfallen. “They’ve been pretty active all day, actually…” Josh simply nods, his face still stony. I place my hand on top of his and stroke it gently. “Are you okay?”

He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. “I’m so sorry, Donna.”

“Don’t. It’s fine.” I rub his hand.

“Donna.”

“Forget it.” I urge him, I force a smile. “Have you had any sleep?”

“A little, on the plane this morning.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmm.” Josh nods.

“What time do you have to go in tomorrow?”

Josh shrugs. “I try to get there by seven. I’ve got interviews from nine.”

I nod, my hand still resting on his. “Have you got an assistant?”

Josh screws his face up. “Why?” he asks.

“I called an obstetrician to see about getting a scan while I’m here. They had a couple of appointments available. I could call your assistant tomorrow and see if one works?” Josh shakes his head quickly. “Don’t worry, I’ll just say it’s for dental appointment or something.” I assure him.

“Nah, it’s not that. I don’t have anyone right now. Well, I kind of have Ronna, but I’m sharing her with the President-elect...”

“Right.”

Josh fishes his Blackberry out of his pocket and opens up his calendar. “I’m pretty packed for the next couple of days,” he admits.

“Give me that,” I roll my eyes and take it from him.

Okay, so he wasn’t kidding. His schedule is essentially fully-booked from morning to night for the foreseeable future.

Josh notices my furrowed brow. “Told ya,” he grins. I scowl at him and keep scrolling through the calendar. “Actually, you can probably bump anything with the new Director of Legislative Affairs.” Josh tells me.

“Really?” Josh nods a little too enthusiastically. “Why?” I ask suspiciously.

“Because the President-elect has given that gig to Amy...” Josh tells me, his voice a little strained.

I look at him with wide eyes. “You’re kidding.”

“Sadly, no.” Josh replies.

“Well, that means you’ve got two free hours tomorrow afternoon.”

“Two free hours?” Josh exclaims. “Ronna gave Amy a two-hour slot with me?!”

“She mustn’t know your history…” I say snidely. “You’ll have to give your next assistant a thorough run-down.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to do that…”

“So, tomorrow, around four? I’ll call the obstetrician in the morning and confirm the appointment.”

Josh nods and leans back against the headboard. “Mmmhmm,” he says sleepily.

“You’ll be there, right?” I ask as I get up and start clearing our plates. Josh is back on his Blackberry, frowning as he reads an email. “Josh?”

He stops reading and smiles up at me. “I’ll be there, Donna. Just send me the info once you’ve confirmed the appointment.”

I grin at him and continuing tidying the room. “Then I guess we’ll know what we’re having tomorrow,” I tell him excitedly. “You know I was actually brainstorming some baby names today. There’s a list in that notebook by the bed, if you want to take a look.” I open the door and put the tray with our dirty plates in the hallway for collection. “I was talking to my Mom the other day about how she came up with my name, she was saying that my Dad was completely opposed to the idea of Italian names at first. In fact, he wanted to call me Jane. Can you imagine that? Jane Moss! Anyway, he didn’t put up much of a fight when I was born…”

I stop mid-sentence when I see that Josh has dozed off.

His Blackberry is on his chest and he’s snoring softly, despite still being fully clothed – including his shoes – and half-sitting against the bedhead. I bite my lip as I decide what to do next. It’s coming up to two o’clock and he has to be at work by seven. I turn and spot his overnight bag by the door. I’m sure he’ll have a change of clothes and a razor in there. It would be shame to wake him now. The past few weeks have wearied him significantly. He needs all the rest he can get.

I make my way over to him and carefully lift his Blackberry off his chest. I set the alarm for 5:45am and place it on the nightstand beside him, then I take a blanket from the bottom of the bed and softly drape it over him. He stirs just barely, his forehead creased with worry.

I slip away and turn the lights out, before sliding into my side of the bed.


	6. Chapter 6

_16 November 2006_

**Josh:**

Have you ever been on the verge of waking up thinking you’re in one place, only to open your eyes and find out you’re in an entirely different one?

It fucks with your head.

It’s been happening to me for months now. On and off.

I think I’m waking up next to her and I’m utterly overjoyed about it, but I reach out and find that the other side of the bed is cool. Then I open my eyes and remember everything that’s happened…

This morning though, I wake up and I swear I can smell her lavender-scented shampoo, and I swear the other side of bed isn’t empty. And, when I finally pluck up the courage to open my eyes, I find that she’s actually here in my arms.

My breath hitches and I have to convince myself that this isn’t a dream. Donna has her back to me, her head is resting under my chin and both my arms are wrapped around her, my hands cradling her bump. The bump that is our unborn baby.

I take a deep breath and try to remember what happened last night. I figure I must’ve dozed off at some stage and she just didn’t bother to wake me.

I know nothing _else_ happened, because I’m still fully clothed and I was stone-cold sober when I got here last night, and because, trust me, I’d remember…

I reluctantly make a move to break away from her. I desperately need to use the bathroom, and though I don’t really want to stop holding her, I force myself to back up and gently maneuverer out of the bed. Donna’s still fast asleep. I smile down at her and make my way the bathroom.

I don’t know how long I slept for, but I feel like a million bucks. I catch sight of myself in the mirror and note that I have a big dopey grin on my face. God, I’d probably have a whole damn personality change if I woke up next to her every morning for the rest of my life.

I close my eyes and shake my head to disabuse myself of such a ridiculous notion. No, Josh, Donna has made herself quite clear. The romantic relationship thing is not a goer here.

My crappy watch tells me it’s nearly 5.30am, so I figure I need to get up and ready for the day. I poke my head out the bathroom door to check that Donna’s still asleep. She is. I smile and turn on the shower.

**Donna:**

I wake to the incessant beeping of an alarm and turn to nudge Josh into turning it off, only Josh isn’t there…

I roll over and hit stop on his Blackberry, before scanning the room for him. “Josh?” I call uncertainly.

I hear the bathroom door open and he ducks his head out. “Hey, you need something?” He asks.

Relieved, I smile broadly when I see him. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and his face is smothered in the shaving cream. “I thought you’d left.” I explain.

He shakes his head. “No, sorry. But I’ll be out of here soon.” He pauses. “Thanks for letting me stay, Donna.”

I shrug coyly and glance away. I hear him retreat to the bathroom and continue shaving.

“You want coffee or something?” I call out.

“No thanks, I’ll head off in a few minutes,” he replies.

“You sure? ‘Cause I’m ordering my breakfast anyway…”

He walks out of the bathroom again. “You should be sleeping,” he tells me sternly. “It’s not even six o’clock, Donna. You probably didn’t get to bed until like 2am.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“You’re gonna lecture me on healthy sleeping patterns?”

Josh pauses. “Well, I’m not pregnant,” he counters.

“Josh, I get more than enough mothering at home.”

He puts his hands up in faux surrender and backs away into the bathroom. “Alright, alright. You know best.”

“Damn right.” I mutter.

**Josh:**

“You cancelled our meeting?!”

I groan as a familiar figure storms into my office with a face like thunder.

It has already been a very long day and I am not in the mood for a run-in with Amy Gardner.

“Sorry, she just barged in.” Ronna pokes her head in my office door and gives me an apologetic look.

“It’s fine,” I tell Ronna, before glancing up at Amy whose hands are perched firmly on her hips.

“You know, the President-elect _personally_ gave me this job, Josh. You can’t just ignore me because you find it difficult to work with your ex-girlfriend.”

“You really need _two hours_ with me in the midst of transition?”

“What? You think I want to catch up on the good ol’ times? We’ve got a whole staff and Cabinet to fill, as well as policy direction and deliverables planning for the first hundred days!”

“Now Amy, you really don’t need to concern yourself with worrying about Cabinet appointments. Those decisions are well above your pay-grade.” I tell her sarcastically as I stand and shrug my suit jacket on.

She glares at me. “Where are you going? We have a meeting.”

“Something came up.” I tell as her as I breeze past her out of the office. “Ronna, I’ll be back in time for my meeting with the President-elect.” I shout as I walk purposely towards to the corridor. Ronna smiles at me and I swear she rolls her eyes as Amy follows after me, clearly not getting the message.

“Josh, I’m not kidding. We’ve got to get the ball rolling on this.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I turn and narrow my gaze. “You’ve got a half-hour with me tomorrow morning. We’ll get the ball rolling then.” I hit the button for the elevator and tap my foot impatiently.

“Where are you even going?”

“Something came up.” I tell her as I walk into the elevator. “Personal thing.”

Amy rolls her eyes as the doors close.

Well, that was one pleasant interaction with an ex over and done with for the day, I think to myself. Now, for number two…

I take my Blackberry out of my pocket and open the email that Donna sent through this morning.

4.30pm

Dr Amelia Roskill

Obstetrician-Gynecologist

Foxhall & Associates

Level 6

1192 New Hampshire Avenue

New Hampshire Ave is close enough to walk, but I decide a cab is the safest way to ensure I’m not late. This is likely the first and only scan I’ll witness, and I’m desperate not to miss it.

I arrive with five minutes to spare and I’m feeling rather pleased with myself until I walk into the waiting room and see Donna’s already there, thumbing through a magazine.

“Hey,” I smile down at her as I claim the empty seat next to hers.

“Hey, you made it,” she grins.

“And early to boot.”

“Impressive,” Donna smirks. “There’s some forms for you to fill out.” She points to a clipboard on the table beside her.

I frown as I pick them up and flick through them. “They need all my info, too?” I ask with a furrowed brow.

“They prefer that they have it,” Donna tells me.

My lip quirks. “Have you just been leaving this blank in Wisconsin?”

Donna glances at me nervously. “Well, yeah…”

I sigh and start filling in the form.

“Hey, you’re in here.” Donna nudges me and I look up to see she’s reading a copy of _TIME_ from a few months ago – the one with ‘PRESIDENT SANTOS?’ splashed across the cover.

I spot a small photo of myself in the corner of the page. “Gee, that’s an old one,” Donna laughs. “You still have most of your hair…”

“Gimme that.” I pull the magazine from her hands. Fuck, she’s right I look so young in this picture. “Must’ve been from the first campaign.” I tell Donna as I skim the article.

It appears to be discussing how I put one dark horse candidate in the White House, and my prospects for doing so a second time. Well, spoiler alert, folks, I did it…

Donna is reading over my shoulder. “Oh my god, listen to this: ‘Lyman, while best known for his campaign savvy and no holds barred approach to politicking, is also one of DC’s most eligible bachelors. Despite embarking on a couple of relationships, including with high-profile political strategist, Mandy Hampton, Lyman has never looked like settling down. It appears politics is his only true mistress.’” Donna snorts. “They make you sound like the Don Juan of Washington!” She laughs.

I roll my eyes. “Alright, alright. I think we’ve read quite enough.” I close the magazine and toss it onto the table.

Donna is attempting to mask her laughter. “DC’s most eligible bachelor?” She cackles.

“Hey. I have a fan club!” I say, only half-joking.

Donna shakes her head in disbelief, still grinning from ear to ear.

“Miss Moss?” A voice calls and we’re both jolted back into reality.

**Donna:**

An appointment with one’s gynecologist is always a bit of an uncomfortable situation. The paper on the exam table, the exposure of your most intimate parts, the invasive questions about your sex life…

Today, though, I’m accompanied by my former employer / ex-boyfriend / baby daddy. So, it’s more uncomfortable than ever. Particularly because Josh looks to be on the verge of a panic attack and can’t even bring himself to make eye contact with me while the doctor asks a multitude of questions.

“So, you’re being looked after by an obstetrician in Madison?” Dr Roskill asks, as she reviews my forms.

“Yes. Dr Wyatt Klein at Madison Women’s Health.” I respond from my perch atop the exam table.

“And there have been no issues with the pregnancy thus far?”

“No, no issues,” I reply. “Well, I’m a little anemic but Dr Klein said it’s not a problem. I’ve been taking supplements.”

Josh’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks at me worriedly.

“Hmm, okay. Are you having regular blood tests?” Dr Roskill questions.

“Yes, every two weeks. There was a slight improvement in the last one.” I smile in response.

Dr Roskill looks down at my forms with the furrowed brow. “Your weight gain has been slow,” she notes.

“The morning sickness was quite bad,” I explain. “But I think I’m over the worst of it now.”

Dr Roskill nods. “I see you had a number of surgeries two years ago.”

I see Josh flinch out of the corner of my eye.

“Yes, I was in a car accident.” I reply. It’s not the whole truth, but it’s not exactly a lie either.

“Any ongoing problems?”

“No. Not really.” Dr Roskill widens her eyes and gestures for me to go on. “I get a bit of pain in my right leg sometimes...” I explain.

“Any medication for that?”

“I stopped taking everything when I found out I was pregnant.” I pause and clasp my hands in front of me. “I’d been taking codeine for the pain and muscle relaxants before that.”

Josh is staring intently at the linoleum.

Dr Roskill scribbles something on my form, before posing her next question. “And you’re relocating to DC?”

I feel my cheeks flush. “Um, possibly.” I glance at Josh. “We’re still working a few things out.”

I see Josh clench his jaw.

Dr Roskill doesn’t seem to notice the increased tension in the room. “Okay, well it shouldn’t be too much of a problem to get your notes transferred here. Call us when you’ve decided and we’ll liaise with Dr Klein’s office directly.” I nod dutifully. “So, you’re nearly five months along, Miss Moss. Are you feeling the baby move?”

“Yes,” I beam. “Every day now for the past two weeks. A lot of kicking, my bladder seems to be their favorite target…”

Dr Roskill laughs. “First pregnancy, right?” I nod. “Just wait until you’re nearer to term…” She grins at me. “Alright, let’s take a look, shall we?” Dr Roskill adjusts the exam table so I’m leaning further back.

I gesture for Josh to come closer, but he appears reluctant to.

“Now you don’t know the sex, is that right?” Dr Roskill asks as she begins applying gel to my uncovered bump.

I shake my head. “No, not yet.”

“Would you like to know?”

I glance at Josh to check and see him nodding eagerly. “Yes, we’d like to know.” I confirm.

“Great,” Dr Roskill smiles. “If the baby cooperates, we should be able to figure it out.”

“What do you mean?” Josh asks as he inches closer.

“Oh, sometimes when the baby is asleep or relaxing, they have their legs crossed, so it’s hard to find a good angle…” Dr Roskill explains. “If that happens today and you’d really like to know, you could always consider an amniocentesis.”

“A what?” Josh asks.

“An amnio,” Dr Roskill continues. “It provides 100 percent certainty on the gender and is also used to scan for any chromosome abnormalities or genetic defects.”

Josh looks intrigued and is about to ask another question when I interrupt him. “I don’t want an amnio.” I say determinedly.

Dr Roskill nods. “Okay, I understand.”

Josh snaps his head to me. “Why not?”

Dr Roskill answers for me. “It’s not a necessary procedure in a low risk pregnancy such as Miss Moss’s. And it does carry some risks for both mother and baby.” Josh gulps. “There’s a small possibility that it could result in miscarriage.” Dr Roskill continues.

“It requires puncturing the amniotic sac with a four-inch needle.” I tell Josh and his face instantly pales. That was my desired effect. He can’t handle anything medical.

Dr Roskill looks amused by Josh’s discomfort. “Are you okay there, Mr. Lyman?”

Josh nods as he takes a deep breath. “Mmmhmmm.”

“Great, let’s get started…” Dr Roskill places the wand on my belly and I hear a familiar ‘thump-thump-thump’ sound. “That’s the heartbeat,” she says. “Nice and strong.”

Josh is staring at the monitor in amazement. “That’s the heartbeat?”

I reach out for his hand. “Yep, pretty incredible, huh?”

He nods, a broad grin plastered across his face. “Holy shit.”

“And that’s your baby,” Dr Roskill points to the monitor. “Ten fingers,” she pauses as she moves the wand around. “Ten toes.”

Josh’s eyes grow ever wider.

“You weren’t kidding, Miss Moss. That is one active baby.” Dr Roskill smiles.

“Yeah, constantly fidgeting. I wonder where it gets that from…” I give Josh a pointed look and he rolls his eyes.

“Where _he_ gets that from…” says Dr Roskill. “Congratulations, it’s a boy.”

Josh grips my hand tightly and flashes me another big smile.

I feel a little overwhelmed. I’m going to a have a son. A little boy. A miniature Josh, with dimples and chestnut curls…

“Wow.” I hear Josh exclaim. “Really?”

“Yep, you see here?” Dr Roskill points to the monitor.

“Oh, yeah. There’s no mistaking that.” Josh says cheekily. I give him a playful whack and he grins at me. “A boy, Donna.” He beams.

“A boy.” I smile in return.

Josh squeezes my hand again before leaning over and gently kissing my temple.


	7. Chapter 7

_17 November 2006_

**Josh:**

There’s not much time to celebrate with Donna. After her appointment I had to rush straight back to the office for a meeting with the President-elect.

But it’s been hard to concentrate, because all I can think about is how I’m going to have a son and how I’m already a crap father because I couldn’t even spare five minutes after the appointment to spend some time with my kid’s mother…

Donna said she understood. She said she was tired and wanted to head back to the hotel anyhow. But I can’t help but feel that I’m letting her down.

Hell, I feel like I’m letting everyone down.

CJ’s pissed at me because I can’t keep the President-elect in check. The President-elect is pissed because of Kazakhstan…

Nobody’s happy and everybody’s stressed.

The President-elect is trying to talk to me but I’m distracted by an email on my Blackberry. Goodwin is really going to town with his transition planning and I feel like I’m being steamrolled at every turn.

“Josh?”

I glance up and find the President-elect frowning at me. “Sorry, sir.” I slip my Blackberry back into my pocket.

“If we’re done with the Kazakhstan update, Ron Butterfield wants a minute with us.”

“I thought that meeting was tomorrow?”

“I think he wants to talk without Helen...”

“Right.”

There’s a knock at the door. “Come on in, Ron.” The President-elect says loudly.

I jump up to shake his hand. “Good to see you, Ron.”

“You too, Josh. Mr. President-elect.”

“Please, take a seat.” The President-elect tells him.

Ron begrudgingly sits down. “Thanks for giving me some time.”

“There’s a few things you wanted to cover prior to tomorrow?” The President-elect asks.

“Yes, I know how difficult the conversations about protection can be for families.” Ron tells him. “But I also wanted to flag a few things with Josh…” Ron pauses. “Ah, Mr. Lyman.”

I look at Ron strangely. “Such as?” I ask.

“Well, the Secret Service has decided that the Chief of Staff will require 24/7 protection too. At least for the first six months in office.”

I narrow my gaze. “What? Why?” CJ and Leo never needed protection.

“It’s our assessment that in the absence of a Vice President, the Chief of Staff will assume much greater responsibility and also attract far greater public scrutiny.” Ron explains.

The President-elect is nodding. “That makes sense. And Josh is already quite well-known to the public.”

Am I? I shake my head. “I really don’t think this is necessary, Ron.”

“Well, Mr. Lyman, I’m afraid it’s the Secret Service’s call. We can go over the finer details tomorrow in the briefing, but I wanted to make you were aware now.”

I nod. It doesn’t seem that this is up for discussion. I hear Ron move on to the next point in his agenda, outlining which areas are up for debate with the future-First Lady and those that are completely immovable. The President-elect looks a little flustered.

“Thanks Ron. I’ll speak to my wife tonight.”

“Thank you, sir.” Ron stands to leave. “Any further questions?”

I look up at him. “If I’m under protection, how will…” I sigh and trail off.

“Sorry?” Ron asks.

“How does dating work?” I ask.

Ron pauses. “Well, any person you wish to spend time with will need to be thoroughly vetted. That takes my guys about a week. At least. And they need advance warning – usually 24 hours – of any restaurants, stores or homes you plan on visiting. Additionally, before you enter any premises other than your home or the White House, they need to sweep the place.”

Fuck. How in the hell is this going to work with Donna and the baby?

Ron continues. “If you’re seeing somebody, we would suggest that they come to you. It makes things a whole lot easier.”

“Are you seeing somebody, Josh?” The President-elect asks.

I don’t reply, instead I direct another question to Ron. “What about people that are living with me?”

Ron glances at the President-elect before responding. “Once they’re cleared by my guys, they’re exempt from any further screening. Like I said, we wouldn’t need to sweep your home each time _you_ enter it.”

“So, they don’t require their own detail?” I ask, wringing my hands.

“A significant other to the Chief of Staff?” Ron asks and I nod eagerly. “Not generally, no.” Ron replies. “But we’d keep that under review.”

“And children?” I ask quietly.

The President-elect rapidly snaps his head towards me, and Ron stares at me quizzically. “This is just for six months, Mr. Lyman. We can cross those bridges _when_ – or _if_ – we come to them…”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” I force a smile and Ron nods before turning to leave.

“You okay?” The President-elect asks.

I nod slowly. “Yeah, just not thrilled about getting a detail.”

“Join the club...”

I didn’t make it to see Donna last night. I was at the office until late. Well, actually I never left. I got about an hour of sleep at my desk before waking up around 5 o’clock. For breakfast I sculled a Red Bull and chewed an antacid. Another glamorous day in politics.

When Sam walks into my office I’m half-convinced he is a lack of sleep-induced mirage.

But no, he’s actually here, even though it appears he started second-guessing why he came the minute he laid eyes on me.

“When was the last time you took a vacation?” He asks me pointedly.

I look at him confusedly.

“Vacation. Time off from labor. Thought to be restorative? Salubrious for body and soul? Not to mention mental health.” Sam lectures.

“I don’t remember.” I admit.

“Okay. If I’m your boss that’s really the wrong answer. Neuroscientists have found that when people who describe themselves as ‘politically committed’ listen to political statements they respond only with the emotional side of their brain. The area of the cortex where reasoning occurs stays quiet.”

“So those people screaming at each other on cable really can’t help it?” I ask cheekily.

“And guys like you and me are quantifiably a little nuts. And so, could benefit from the occasional break. You people don’t take office for another ten weeks. I think you could afford to spend one of them lying on a beach somewhere.”

Sam doesn’t know the half of it…

I haven’t spoken to Donna since the appointment yesterday, and I feel like an ass. I asked her to stay on in DC for longer but I’ve barely spent any time with her.

Plus, the next time I see her I’m going to have to break the news about the Secret Service detail…

I should call her. Make sure she’s doing okay holed up in that hotel room…

I think that I may lost my mind a little back there, as well as my temper. Vitriolic yelling at Otto? Who am I?

Who speaks to someone like that? God, I am an ass.

What? Am I gonna talk to my kid like that too?! If he spills a juice box on one of my briefing memos or something? I gulp as this scenario plays out in my head. I really need to get my shit together.

Maybe I should call Stanley? But I don’t think this really qualifies as a PTSD event.

What set me off was that I couldn’t find my Blackberry and I wanted to check in with Donna. But right now, doesn’t feel like the best time to explain the intricacies of my meltdown to Sam…

Sam who is in my office glaring at me.

“You are nowhere near your best,” he tells me sternly. Welp, I can’t really argue with that. “Take the vacation.”

I roll my eyes and start to turn away.

“I haven’t said I’m signing on, but I can tell you this.” Sam says in a level tone. “I won’t stay unless you go.”

I gulp.

“One of us is getting on a plane tonight. If it’s you, you’re back in a week. If it’s me, I’m gone, adios, for good. Your call.”

“Sir, this is Sam Seaborn. He’ll be covering for me this next week.”

“Sorry?” The President-elect looks genuinely shocked.

“Goodwin’s doing the transition, I set some Senior Staff, Sam knows the players for the rest. In any event, none of our candidates are going anywhere. It’s not like they’re gonna take Director of Cabinet Affairs jobs in the Benelux countries. Lou will be honing our message plan…” I pause. “Um, I yelled at Otto for no reason. I haven’t had a vacation in, well, basically, ever. And I will be better able to serve you and your presidency, not to mention the country, if I…unfog my head.” I take another breath. “Sam’s getting married.”

The President-elect turns to Sam. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Sam smiles.

“I really think I need to do this, sir.” I continue.

The President-elect smirks and turns to me. “If it didn’t involve a motorcade, I’d drive you to the airport myself.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam.”

“You too.”

“Let’s catch up a bit later. I just need a minute with Josh.”

Sam glances at me before leaving the President-elect’s office.

“You wanna tell me what else is going on?”

I’m a little taken aback by the change in his tone. “What do you mean, sir?”

“It’s not just the job, right?”

I shrug. “I haven’t had a break in a _very_ long time.”

“I know that.” He interrupts. “But I mean what else is going on? You were asking Ron about what the protection will mean for your…” He trails off. “Your personal life.”

I grin and look down. “Honestly, there isn’t much of a personal life. I think that’s part of my problem.”

“Josh,” he interjects.

I look up and meet his stern gaze. “I was seeing someone on the campaign.” He looks surprised. “The primary. I was seeing someone during the primary.” I expand.

He laughs. “Really? I had no idea.”

I rub my neck and stick a hand in my pant pocket. “Yeah.” I shake my head.

“Was it someone on the campaign?”

I shake my head. “No.” I pause. “Well, yes. But, not _our_ campaign.”

The President-elect raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Really.” I look down. “The Russell campaign. Donna Moss.”

“Damn. Chicken fighter?"

I laugh. “Ah, yeah, that’s the one.”

“She used to work for you, right?”

I sigh. “Uh huh.”

“And you’re not together anymore?”

I shrug. “I don’t know if we were ever really _together_ …”

The President-elect folds his arms. “Right.” He looks away absentmindedly. “But you want to be? That’s why you were asking Ron all those questions?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

The President-elect shrugs. “So uncomplicate it. Take her on holiday with you.”

Christ, does this guy have an answer for everything?!

“She’s pregnant.” I hear myself blurt out.

The President-elect looks at me with wide eyes. “Pregnant?”

I nod in confirmation. “Due start of March,” I say quietly. “It’s a boy. We found out yesterday.”

The President-elect nods slowly. “Well, congratulations.”

“Thanks.” I mumble.

“All the more reason for you to take some time off.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

“So, are the two of you thinking about getting back together?” He’s trying not to pry, but I can tell exactly what he’s thinking.

I sigh and fold my arms. “Donna doesn’t want to get married or anything...” I tell him plainly.

He nods slowly. “Okay.”

“We’re still figuring things out.”

“You might want to consider talking to Lou.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

“I don’t mean to say it’ll be a problem…”

“Really? You don’t think ‘White House Chief of Staff knocks up significantly younger former assistant out of wedlock’ is gonna be a problematic headline?” I say incredulously.

“Well, it’s a mouthful, I’ll give you that.” I groan and turn away. “Talk to Lou.” The President-elect instructs me.

I nod and go to leave. “But, Josh, it can wait until you’re back from vacation.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Congratulations, Josh. mean it.” I smile at him weakly. “Being a father is truly incredible,” he goes on.

“I’m shitting myself.” I admit.

The President-elect laughs. “See you in a week.”


	8. Chapter 8

_17 November 2006_

**Donna:**

“You look terrible.”

“You know, I never get tired of hearing that.” Josh smirks at me.

I take a step back and study him again.

That suit is definitely more than a couple days old, and the black rings under his eyes are more pronounced than ever. Red veins cross-hatch the whites of his eyes and his hair does not look dissimilar to a broom’s bristles.

“Seriously Josh, you look worn out.” I step aside and let him enter the room.

I hear him sigh as he dumps his briefcase and coat on the floor. “Yeah, I know.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“Are you finished for the day?” I glance at my watch, it’s only 7pm.

Josh collapses into an armchair and starts to kick off his dress shoes. “Mmmhmm,” he tells me distractedly.

“Really?” I raise my eyebrows and walk over to him.

He glances up at me. “Actually, Donna, I’m finished for a while. Mandatory vacation.” He groans as his shoes come off his feet and he relaxes back into the chair.

“Vacation? Seriously?” I fold my arms and lean against the wall.

“Yep. I’m to lie on a beach somewhere and not return to the office until 9am next Monday.”

It’s Friday evening right now. Josh has nine days of imposed leave ahead of him.

“Why?”

“Because I’m losing my mind,” Josh grins. “And Sam will abandon me if I don’t take a break.”

“Sam’s here?” I ask excitedly.

“That’s what you took from that? Not the fact that the father of your child is having a mental breakdown?”

I roll my eyes. “You’ve been on the verge for quite some time…”

“Thanks,” comes his sarcastic reply.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

Josh looks embarrassed. “Sorry. I left the office without much of a plan and just kinda wound up here.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” I assure him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Josh smiles before looking away. “Sorry I haven’t been in touch for a couple days.”

I shrug.

“What have you been doing?” He asks.

“Waiting for you to call.” I joke and Josh rolls his eyes. “Honestly, I’ve just been enjoying doing nothing.” I reply. “Though I did manage to leave the hotel today. I did some shopping in Georgetown.”

“Oh yeah?” Josh looks intrigued.

“Well, window shopping really. There’s a bunch of kid’s boutiques, but they’re so overpriced…”

“You still have my card, right?”

I narrow my gaze and look at him. “Josh…”

“What? He’s gonna need some stuff…I don’t mind.”

I roll my eyes and walk over to my luggage. “Actually, there was one thing I couldn’t resist…” I admit as I rifle through my suitcase before wandering over to Josh and handing him a teeny-tiny New York Mets onesie. “What do you think?”

Josh touches the onesie gingerly. “It’s so small,” he says quietly.

“It’s a 3-6-month size,” I tell him. “They have smaller ones.”

Josh looks up at me and I see there are tears pooling in his eyes. “Thank you,” he says sincerely.

“God, Josh, you really do need a break, huh?” I say jokingly. “Who knew an infant’s baseball outfit could bring Bartlet’s Bulldog to his knees?” I jibe and Josh rolls his eyes. “Where are you going on vacation?” I ask as prop myself up on the bed.

Josh shrugs. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“You should go see your Mom.”

Josh nods slowly. “Or, I could come with you to Madison…” he suggests.

I grit my teeth. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Josh looks hurt. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he nods.

“And it’s absolutely freezing in Wisconsin right now. At least Florida has sun and beaches.” I grin.

“Would you want to…” he trails off but I can sense the direction he’s heading in.

“Josh.”

He nods again. “Sorry. I should probably just go…”

“It’s okay.” I assure him. “Stay.”

Josh smiles briefly. “So, he’s allowed to be a Mets fan, then?” He asks, changing the subject.

“You may have your work cut out for you with that. My Dad will insist that he be a Brewers’ man.”

Josh rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Over my dead body.”

I grin at him. “I called them yesterday to tell them it’s a boy. They’re very excited.” A flash of worry streaks across Josh’s face. “Sorry, I hope that’s okay.” I say quickly.

“Yeah, of course,” he pauses. “I told the President-elect.”

Oh wow. “Really?” I ask, my eyes wide.

“He was happy for us.” Josh continues. “I mean, he had questions, but he was happy…”

I nod slowly as I consider the kind of questions the incoming Leader of the Free World had about our predicament.

“Did you tell your folks about me?” Josh asks tentatively.

I glance at him. “Yes.”

Josh’s head quirks and I see him toying with his hands. “I can’t imagine they’re too happy,” he comments. “Thirteen-year age gap, amongst other things…”

“I think they had already guessed.” I admit. “They didn’t really say anything. Well, other than that they were happy his father wanted to be part of his life.”

Josh gulps. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I confirm.

“Okay.”

We’re interrupted by the ringing of Josh’s phone. I raise my eyebrows at him as he fishes the Blackberry from his pocket. “You’re on vacation.” I remind him.

Josh glances down at the caller ID. “I know, but I should really get this one,” he replies.

Typical.

**Josh:**

“Ron. Hi.” I stand up and walk towards the entryway so Donna doesn’t hear too much of the conversation.

“Mr. Lyman. Is now a good time?”

I pause. No, not at all, I think to myself. “As good as any.” I reply.

“Okay. My apologies for calling. I understand you’re on vacation for the next week.”

“Uh, yeah. It’s fine though. What’s up?”

“I met with the President-elect and Mrs. Santos this evening.”

“Oh yeah, sorry I missed that.”

“Not a problem. The President-elect updated me on your…” Ron pauses. “Change in circumstances.”

“Okay.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks Ron.”

“You’ll appreciate that the Secret Service needs to move quickly to put in place the appropriate arrangements for your new detail.”

“Yes.”

“We’ll need to have Miss Moss and her family complete some documentation.”

“Okay…”

“And we’ll need to commence a series of upgrades to your residence as soon as possible. In fact, it may be wise for that work to begin while you’re out of town.”

I clear my throat. “What sort of upgrades?”

“Bulletproof glass, reinforced doors, and the like...”

“Right.”

“You’re still at the same address?”

“Yes.”

“And Miss Moss is residing there too?”

“Ah, no.”

“I see…”

“We’re still confirming arrangements. She has her own place…” I trail off and notice Donna is watching me with a furrowed brow, she’s clearly heard enough of my half of the conversation to know that something is up.

“We strongly encourage you to cohabitate, if possible.”

“Uh huh.” I turn so my back is to Donna.

“If that’s not possible, we’ll have to establish an additional detail and make all necessary security upgrades at Miss Moss’s residence too.”

“Christ. Really?!”

“I’m afraid so, Mr. Lyman. Children of protectees require their own detail.”

“Look, Ron, I haven’t had a chance to discuss any of this with her yet. Can I maybe call you back when we have some clarity?”

“Of course.” Ron pauses. “In the meantime, where should I send the forms for Miss Moss?”

“Ah, State Plaza Hotel. Room 317.”

“Great, thank you.”

“Thanks Ron.”

“Oh, and Mr. Lyman?”

“Yeah?”

“Congratulations again. It is truly wonderful news.”

I smile. “Thank you.”

I end the call and turn to see Donna glaring at me. Her arms are folded and she’s tapping her foot impatiently, clearly waiting for an explanation.

“So, that was Ron Butterfield.” I force a smile and bite my lip. “I’m getting a detail…”


	9. Chapter 9

_21 November 2006_

**Donna:**

It has been a few days since I left DC. I’m back with my parents who are fussing over me, much to my chagrin.

In terms of things with Josh, the tables have turned a little, and this time I’m the one ignoring his calls. I just can’t bring myself to speak to him right now. I’m frustrated that everything has to be on _his_ terms.

Since I told him about the baby, so much of what I’ve wanted has been completely undermined. Now there’s no possibility of me staying in Wisconsin. Hell, there’s not even a possibility of me staying in my own apartment…

I’m moving in with Josh.

I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not like _that_.

I’m taking his room, the spare bedroom will become a nursery, and he’ll sleep on a foldout bed in the study. I’m not exactly sure how he’ll fit a foldout bed in the walk-in closet that is his study, but he assures me he’ll figure it out.

Josh has assured me he’ll figure a lot of things out.

Like living together while not being a couple. Something Josh claims will be easy.

And it does make sense, to an extent. It means he’ll see more of the baby, and I won’t have to fret over rent payments or finding a job straightaway.

But it’s also such a messy situation, and the last thing I want to be bringing my son into is an unhappy home.

I asked Josh what will happen if one of us meets somebody. What we’d do if he wanted to bring someone home for the night. He just laughed and rolled his eyes. Apparently, that’s not even a remote possibility. I don’t know how I feel about that. Am I relieved that he’s not seeing anyone? That he may not have seen anyone since whatever we had together splintered…I don’t know. It’s hard to know how to feel these days.

I still bounce between wanting everything between us to be clear cut, with no possibility of a romantic relationship ever again, and embracing the lack the clarity, daydreaming about being a _proper_ family.

When it became clear that separate apartments in DC were not going to work for the Secret Service, Josh again pushed the idea of us finding a house in Spring Valley. I put my foot down – that’s why we’re sticking with his apartment in Georgetown. Though I don’t really know why I was so opposed. A stately brick colonial on an oak-lined street certainly appeals to me right now. Perhaps I was far too dismissive of the suburban dream…

I shake my head and tell myself I’m only feeling this way because I’m about to enter the ‘nesting phase’ of my pregnancy. However, it’s really hard to nest when you’re staying in your childhood bedroom, complete with a single bed…

As mad as I am at Josh right now, I’m kind of looking forward to moving back to DC. I’m not moving until the New Year though. I wanted to spend Christmas with my family, and I wanted some space from Josh for a while.

He’s in Florida right now but I don’t know how his vacation’s going. I can’t bring myself to listen to his voicemails or to call him back.

My parents keep asking about him. I think they’re secretly thrilled that we’re moving in together. I have to keep reminding them that we’re not together. My Mom just gives me knowing looks, like she doesn’t quite believe me. Hell, she probably thinks the Secret Service rationale is just something Josh and I have cooked up together. A cover story to ensure my parents don’t insist on me staying in Wisconsin.

My parents are yet to grasp the enormity of Josh’s new role and the considerable political power that he wields in DC. My Mom rolled her eyes when I explained to my brother-in-law exactly why Josh requires Secret Service protection, “He’s going to be the principal adviser to President Santos…he’s the finest political mind in the democratic party.” My Mom simply shook her head, “Oh Donna, you don’t need to embellish things!”

I wish I were exaggerating. I wish my son was going to have a father who didn’t require armed guards. One who got home by 6pm every night and never had to work weekends.

Not that I would change things…

I’m glad my son has Josh Lyman for a dad. I’m so glad I’m going to be doing this with Josh, I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else…

Oh god. I’m getting emotional and starting to fantasize about things that simply cannot happen.

Josh and I already tried the relationship thing. It didn’t work. Not for anyone.

We cannot go through that again, not when there’s a child relying on us to keep our shit together.

**Josh:**

Donna isn’t answering my calls. I don’t blame her. We didn’t part ways on the best of terms for a number of reasons.

First, she’s not fond of the fact that her child will require 24/7 Secret Service protection, which, by proxy, means she too will be surrounded by armed guards.

Secondly, I’m basically forcing her to relocate to DC and move in with me…I understand that it’s a big ask, I really do. But I can’t help but feel a little hurt that she is so desperately upset about living with me.

Donna was quite vicious when I explained the situation to her. She told me she couldn’t believe I was forcing her to leave her family at the time she’d need them the most. When I assured her that I’d be there to support her, she laughed in my face. “What happens when the baby has colic but you get called to the Sit Room?! I can’t do this on my own!”

She makes some valid points. I’ve been thoroughly unreliable in the past, why would that change now?

I’ve been wandering down Palm Beach for about an hour. It’s dusk and there are plenty of people around, enjoying the last of the sun. Lots of happy couples wearing Breton stripes and looking wistfully at one another.

I spot three figures walking towards me. A Mom, Dad, and a kid who looks to be about four-years-old. She’s in the middle, holding onto their hands and smiling up at them, her bare feet and tiny legs working apace to keep up.

I never used to notice stuff like that before, but now, it’s sends a bolt directly to my heart. I have to tear my eyes away from the scene before me so I don’t well up.

I make my way up the beach towards the dunes and throw myself wearily onto the sand. The waves are rolling in and I have nothing better to do than watch them.

Sam was right, I really needed a vacation. Not that a week with my mother in West Palm Beach was exactly what I had in mind, but it’s been good nonetheless. I’ve slept-in, devoured my mother’s home cooking, and come to better terms with my impending fatherhood.

As expected, my Mom was ecstatic about the whole thing. She’s already told all of her friends about her grandson, and she’s been trialing potential monikers for herself, “Grandma Sarah? Nana? Bubbee? What do you think, Josh?”

She has subverted my expectations in some ways though. She hasn’t urged me to marry Donna or figure things out. Of course, she’s thrilled Donna’s the mother, but she seems to be at peace with the fact we’re not married or getting married, or even together. “All that matters is that your little boy has two parents who love him,” she assures me.

Well, he has that.

I rake my fingers through the cool sand and sigh. This is not how I imagined Donna and I would start a family. Not that I imagined we would start a family…well, I didn’t think about it at length, at least.

All I want to do is talk to her. I want to hear about how much he’s kicking. I want to brainstorm baby names and argue about nursery themes. At the very least, I want to be able to call her number and know that she’ll pick up.

As I think this my phone starts to ring. I frantically fish through my pockets and pull it out. The display reads ‘UNKNOWN CALLER’ and my heart sinks.

“Josh Lyman.” I say sullenly as I press the Blackberry to my ear.

“Mr. Lyman?”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s James Moss,” he pauses. “Donna’s dad.”

Fuck. My heart skips a beat. “Is everything okay? Is she okay?” I say desperately.

“Everything’s absolutely fine. I’m just calling to check in…”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

“Actually, Donna doesn’t know I’m calling. I got your number from my wife. She had it from Germany...”

“Oh.” I’ve never met or spoken to James Moss. I met Donna’s mom, Gabriella, when she flew to Germany after Gaza. Directly after the accident I’d called her to give her updates whenever new information about Donna’s condition came through, but James was never on the line.

Donna’s dad sounds different to how I imagined. He’s a little more softly-spoken and gentle than I expected.

“You know, I never really thanked you for all that you did for Donna after the accident,” James continues. “And all that you did for Gabby and me, too. We really appreciated all of your help. Especially what you did to get Gabby to Germany. We never could’ve afforded that on our own…” My mouth twitches. Donna doesn’t know that I paid for her Mom to fly out.

“Ah, thank you, Mr. Moss.”

“I guess you’ll know soon enough what it’s like to be a parent. It’s like having a piece of your heart permanently living outside your body. And it only gets worse the older that they get.”

I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry that it isn’t under different circumstances, Mr. Moss.”

“Nonsense. It’s wonderful news.” He rebuffs me.

I nod. “Yeah, it really is.”

“And I know that you care a lot about Donna. That much was obvious after her accident.”

“I do,” I tell him, biting my lip.

“And she cares a lot about you too, son.” James pauses. “I expect that’s why she missed so many Christmases at home while she was working for ya.”

I flinch. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.” James tells me. “Now, Donna’s told us all about your plans and that business with the Secret Service…we’ve filled out all those forms she gave us.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know it’s not ideal.”

“Stop apologizing, son.”

“Sorry.” I gulp.

“These things can’t be helped,” James continues. “I know Donna’s mighty pissed at you right now.”

“Yeah,” I sigh.

“She’ll come right. Gabby’s the same way, stubborn as hell.”

I grin. “Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.” James replies. “I heard you may have tried to make an honest woman out of her…”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Yes.” I reply plainly.

“Bet that went down like a lead balloon.” James smirks.

“You have no idea.”

James laughs. “Well, anyhow, I was just calling to say hello and to welcome ya to the family.”

“Thanks, Mr. Moss.” I smile genuinely.

“She’ll come right, Mr. Lyman. You just give her some time.”

“Okay.” I pause. “You can call me Josh.”

“Right. Well, Josh. I expect I’ll meet you in person soon. You take care now.”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks for calling.”

The call ends and I realize that my heart has been beating wildly for the entirety of the conversation.

I shake my head and take a deep breath. Christ, I feel like I’m seventeen-years-old and I’ve just been cross-examined by my prom date’s father.

How can I go to nose to nose with the Republican leadership, but James Moss from Wisconsin turns my knees to jelly?

“You’re back! I was just about to send out a search party!” Mom tells me in an exaggerated voice as I walk in the front door.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize how far I’d gone.” I admit as I stand awkwardly in the doorway.

“You alright, Joshua?” Mom asks, her face suddenly etched with worry.

“I got a call from Donna’s dad while I was out.”

“Everything okay?”

I nod and take a seat on the sofa, propping my feet on the coffee table.

Mom narrows her gaze and puts the clean laundry she is folding to one side. “Really?” she enquires.

“Yeah. He was just calling to say hi and to ‘welcome me to the family’…” I trail off, shaking my head.

Mom smiles. “He sounds like a nice man. Maybe I should call Donna?” she ponders.

I snicker. “Good luck to you.” I say sarcastically, and Mom raises her eyebrows. “She’s not answering my calls.” I explain.

I see a glint of mischief in my mother’s eye.

“What?” I urge her.

“Nothing,” she grins at me. “I always did like that girl.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, Mom, I know.” I drone.

“She’s very good at keeping you in your place…”

Yes, she certainly is.


	10. Chapter 10

_2 January 2007_

**Donna:**

I’m in my third trimester and I’m well and truly waddling now.

My bump can no longer be disguised by thick coats or shift dresses, it sticks out like a basketball. It kind of feels as though I’m wearing a big flashing neon sign that says ‘Pregnant lady!’ because I literally part the crowds of people as I walk through the airport.

Strangers give me sympathetic smiles, and step aside for me to board escalators before them. I’m laden with carry-on luggage and I feel miserable. Being stuck in a tiny airplane seat for the past few hours was not enjoyable in the least, especially as little bug was playing footsies with my ribcage.

I groan as I step off the escalator and scan the terminal for my flight’s luggage carousel.

“Donna,” a familiar voice shouts, and I look up to see Josh waiting with a luggage trolley.

“Hey,” I smile as I walk towards him.

“Hey,” he steps forward to relieve me of my bags, before placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. “Good flight?”

I shrug and let out a sigh. “Well, I’m pleased I won’t have to catch another one for a while.” I rub my hand across my swollen belly and shake my head. “Flying while heavily pregnant is a unique kind of pain.” Josh is staring down at my bump, seemingly entranced. “What?” I ask.

“You’ve just gotten so big,” he grins.

I roll my eyes. “I feel like a beached whale.” I groan. “And I still have two months to go!”

Josh laughs and puts his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “You’re here now. You can just relax for the next couple of months.”

I feel myself ease into his touch and bite my lip. Josh keeps his eye on the baggage carousel in front of us as he absentmindedly rubs my back. “Thanks for picking me up, Josh.” I tell him quietly.

He smiles. “Of course.”

“How are you doing?” I ask.

Josh shrugs. “Things are coming together,” he replies.

“Santos ready to take office?”

Josh shrugs again. “I don’t think you can ever be ready for that gig…”

“Are you?”

Josh huffs. “Well, I have a vague idea of what lies before me.” He nods before turning to look at me. “That is to say I feel a little more prepared to be Chief of Staff than I do to be a dad.” He grins.

I shake my head and pat my belly. “God help us, little bug.”

Josh groans and points to a suitcase on the carousel. “That yours?” He asks and I nod.

**Josh:**

“Sorry the place isn’t homier…” I tell Donna as I wheel her luggage into the living room.

I watch as she glances around taking everything in. “The construction guys just finished up before Christmas and I haven’t had time to…” I trail off. “Finesse.” I rub the back of my neck and look at her.

“It’s fine,” she assures me as she starts to remove her scarf and coat.

“Here, let me help.” I pull her coat off her shoulders. “We can get some of your stuff from the storage unit this weekend, if you’d like.”

Donna nods. “Yeah, sounds good,” she makes her way over to the couch and takes a seat.

I walk over and clasp my hands in front of me. “You want anything?” I ask. “Tea? Juice?”

Donna shrugs and looks amused. “I’m fine, Josh,” she grins. “Y’know this is the cleanest I’ve ever seen this place,” she comments as she looks around.

I feel my cheeks flush. “I may have hired a housekeeper…” I admit.

Donna raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

I shrug. “Yeah, I dunno. I didn’t want you to have to worry about anything, especially once the baby’s here.”

Donna smiles. “That was thoughtful.”

I grin in response. “Also, the place was disgustingly filthy…”

Donna rolls her eyes and props her feet up on the couch. “Did you manage to fit a bed in your study?”

I nod and smile at her. “I did. I now sleep on a top-of-the-line pull out couch. I’ve even managed to squeeze a chest of drawers in.”

Donna looks impressed. “And most of my stuff is out of the master bedroom,” I continue. “There’s just a few suits in the closet. I hope that’s okay.”

“Josh, it’s your place…”

“I know. I just want you to be comfortable…”

“Thanks. That’s sweet.” Her hands are resting on her bump. I love seeing her look so relaxed in my home. _Our_ home.

“I thought we could go shopping for nursery furniture this weekend. I’ve cleared out the spare bedroom, but I didn’t want to buy anything until you were here.”

“You don’t have to work this weekend?” Donna sounds surprised.

“I can take a day,” I assure her.

“Okay,” she smiles. “I can’t believe you’ve gotten rid of so much stuff…” she looks around the room in amazement. “The place looks huge.”

I rub the back the of my neck and glance around. “It actually feels a bit empty right now,” I tell her. “But we can buy some stuff this weekend.”

“Thanks Josh,” she smiles sincerely.

“You hungry? I can order us some takeout?”

Donna beams. “That actually sounds wonderful.”

“Yeah? Chinese?”

“Mmmhmm. Let’s get Kung Pao chicken.” She says excitedly.

I grin as I start dialling the number. “Just like old times…”

Donna smiles. “Except we can’t split a beer anymore,” she tells me as she pats her bump.

_6 January 2007_

**Donna:**

Josh has been strangely attentive since I arrived a few days ago. I haven’t seen him be quite so considerate and attuned to my needs since…Germany.

It really is rather touching.

We’re out shopping today, and it feels very ‘coupley’. Mainly because we’re shopping for nursery furniture, but also because he keeps putting his hand on the small of my back and rushing to open doors for me. I gotta tell ya, I could really get used to this treatment.

He’s taking this baby-shopping stuff all incredibly seriously. He’s quizzing the store assistants on the safety ratings of anything and everything, and is insisting on buying the top-of-the-range item every time. In addition, he swots my credit card away each time I attempt to pay for something.

“Your money is no good here, Donna.” He insists.

I roll my eyes, but I’m secretly relieved. Babies aren’t cheap and my checking account is dwindling by the day.

“What’s next on the list?” he asks as we leave the furniture store.

“A stroller,” I tell Josh.

We’ve just picked out a five-piece oak nursery set – a cot, changing table, dresser, rocking chair and bookshelf – and baby-blue striped linens. Little bug is one spoilt boy.

“Oh yeah, Mrs. Santos told me we should get a particular brand.” Josh tells me as he furrows his brow and tries to remember.

“Mrs. Santos told you?” I laugh.

Josh shrugs. “We talk about baby stuff now,” he explains. “We finally have something to talk about…”

“Who else knows?” I enquire.

“Um, Sam and his fiancée.” I nod, I know this already because I received an excited phone call from Sam as soon as Josh told him. “Lou, because she’s communications director, and Ronna, because she has access to my calendar…”

“And what do Lou and Ronna think?”

Josh pauses. “Lou thinks I’m intentionally trying to make her life more difficult,” he grins. “And Ronna squealed when I told her, so I think she’s happy for us.”

I smile at him. “And which stroller did Mrs. Santos recommend for little bug?”

Josh’s eyes light up. “I think you’ll find this quite fitting, Donna,” he grins. “A bugaboo.”

I narrow my eyes. “Josh, those are like a thousand dollars.”

“I’m good for it,” he smiles as he opens the door of his Audi for me. I roll my eyes. “What?” he exclaims.

“You’re being very generous…too generous.” I tut-tut.

“Is it generosity when it’s your kid?” Josh asks, he closes my door and races around to his own side. I roll my eyes again. “I saw that,” he smirks as he bounds into the driver’s seat. “Y’know,” he tells me as I put my seatbelt on. “If you’re annoyed with an expensive stroller, my next trick is really gonna piss you off.”

After purchasing a blue bugaboo and _every single_ possible add-on – at Josh’s insistence – I think we’re about done for the day. The nursery furniture is being delivered on Monday. It’s coming assembled, an additional cost that _I_ insisted upon, much to Josh’s dismay, “I’m a craftsman, Donna!” He’d exclaimed.

We’ve just managed to squeeze the stroller and matching car seat into the back of Josh’s Audi, and I’m ready to head home and put my feet up. But, Josh, it appears, has other ideas, because instead of driving home we have now pulled up to Jeep dealership.

“Josh…” I start.

“C’mon,” he tells me as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “You’re gonna hate it!” His eyes glint with mischief.

“Seriously, Josh. This is too much.”

“What? We’re going to need two cars, and my kid is not riding around in that deathtrap Honda of yours.”

My trusty Honda civic has been parked outside of my DC apartment for months now, leaking oil and lowering the property values of every home on the street. The chick from Treasury agreed to take over my lease and Josh organized for a moving company to shift all of my furniture into a storage unit a few weeks ago. We were waiting until I got here to pick up the car, but it seems Josh has other ideas…

“The civic has served me very well, thank you.” I lecture as Josh opens my car door.

“Yeah, well, I vote we sell it and upgrade.” Josh tells me as he ushers me out.

“We?” I ask pointedly.

He mock glares at me. “Oh, come on. Let me buy you a new car.” He begs and I sigh. “Christ Donna, it’s not a five-bedroom Spring Valley…” He mutters cheekily.

I whack his arm and he grins at me devilishly. “C’mon, any color you want.” He bounces excitedly on the balls of his feet.

And that’s the story of how I came to drive a ruby red 2006 Jeep Liberty, or the ‘sexy soccer mom’s vehicle’, as Josh likes to call it.


	11. Chapter 11

_8 January 2007_

**Josh:**

Donna is padding around my apartment barefoot, wearing a loosely tied dressing gown. It’s early – 6am – but she said she couldn’t sleep. Little bug has been kicking her all night, so she’s hanging out with me while I get ready for work.

I watch her from the dining table as she makes herself a pot of tea, and looks enviously at my fresh cup of coffee.

“What we need to do is buy decaf…” She mutters as she stares at me with a frown.

I roll my eyes and take a bite of my bagel. “There are many things I am willing to put up with, Donnatella. But I will not allow that filth to cross the threshold of this house…” I grin down at my newspaper.

Donna sighs and makes her way over to me. “What do you have on today?” She asks as she slumps into a dining chair, smoothing her hands over her bump.

“A couple of meetings at the White House. We have a few things to go over for the inauguration,” I turn my gaze to her. “You sure you don’t want to come?”

“To the inauguration?” Donna raises her eyebrows and looks at me incredulously. “In this condition?!” She pats her bump. “I’m happy staying home. Once upon a time I might’ve been sad to miss the eight inaugural balls, but I don’t think I could even squeeze my swollen feet into heels at this point…”

“Once upon a time you nearly did miss the eight inaugural balls…” I remind her as I sip my coffee.

Donna rolls her eyes. “Look, it’s sweet of you to ask, but I’d really rather not.” I nod slowly. “Besides, wouldn’t it create quite the fire storm for you guys if your unwed, pregnant, former assistant is on the podium – in full view of the cameras – while Santos takes the oath?” She looks at me expectantly, but I avoid her gaze. She smirks and proceeds to put on a faux newscaster voice, “’This just in folks, Chief of Staff Lyman is confirmed to be living in sin with his baby mama!’”

I groan and she grins at me. “Not much sinning going on,” I comment cheekily.

“There is a definite lack of sin…” Donna agrees and I turn to her with a peculiar look on my face. “Do you think that makes it worse?” she asks.

“What?” Does she mean the lack of sex? Because, yes, it certainly makes things worse from where I’m sitting. Especially when she looks so beautiful in her pajamas, with bed hair and no makeup… “The fact that we’re having a baby together and we live together, but that we’re not _together_.” Donna explains.

I exhale and shrug my shoulders. “Well, according to Lou, it makes it a far more difficult story to package to the media…” I scowl at my newspaper.

Donna sits back in her seat and drums her fingers on her belly. “He’s kicking,” she tells me.

I lean across and place my hand on the bump, smiling as I feel the swift movement beneath. It never gets old. “Listen here, little bug, you better let your mother get some rest today…” I quietly tell the bump.

“Yeah, that’ll do the trick,” Donna grins. “So, what else are you doing today?”

“Ah, State are briefing Vinick and the President-elect this morning, so I’m sitting in on that. Plus, I’m working on the inaugural address with Sam and Otto.” I stand up and start to clear my dishes from the table. ‘Working on’ is simply a nice way of saying that I plan on tearing Sam and Otto’s drafts to pieces…

Donna sighs and leans back. “Ah, adult things, using one’s mind, I miss it…” she laments dramatically.

I grin at her. “You wanna get lunch later?” I ask.

“You’re free?” she sounds hopeful.

“I could squeeze you in.” I smirk.

“God, yes. I’m desperate to go somewhere other than a Lamaze class…” Donna sighs.

“You haven’t caught up with any of your old friends yet?” I ask.

“Everyone’s too busy with the transition,” Donna responds, and I know she means the outgoing West Wing staff. “Carol, Ginger and Margaret want to go for brunch when they finish up…I haven’t even tried contacting CJ yet, I bet she’s swamped.” She looks to me for confirmation.

“Yeah, it’s insane there at the moment. I don’t even think she’s considered her next move. You know, I offered her a role with us, but it seems the one thing she has decided is that the White House does not feature in her future plans...” Donna nods. “I tried to get Margaret to stay on in her role too.” I continue.

“You still don’t have an assistant?”

“Apparently, people aren’t lining up to work for me.” I grin.

“Shocking,” Donna smirks.

I pick up my discarded tie and make my way over to the mirror, Donna jumps up and follows me. “You know you should ask Carol. She’s looking for work at the moment.” I nod as I squint at my reflection and struggle with my tie. “Here,” Donna nudges me and grabs my tie. I drop my hands and pretend to sigh. “You always do it so sloppily,” she chides me. “It drives me crazy.”

I stifle a grin. “So, lunch?”

Donna tightens my tie. “Yep, anytime is good for me. I literally have no plans today.”

“You wanna drop by the office? Say one o’clock?”

Donna quirks her head. “You want me to come in?”

I shrug. “Why not.”

“Okay,” Donna nods.

“I’m sure the President-elect would love to catch up with chicken fighter…” The comment earns me a whack on the arm.

“I’ll see you later,” I tell her as I slip my coat on and grab my car keys. “Have a good morning.”

“See ya,” she smiles.

My mornings for the past week have been a lot more enjoyable than usual. Donna has been insisting that I go to bed at a reasonable hour – instead of staying up until 3am yelling at CNN and skimming briefing papers – so I’m feeling well-rested. Additionally, there is real food in my kitchen, so I’m eating a proper meal every night and starting my day with a breakfast that doesn’t consist of stale doughnuts and red bull. There’s no red bull in the house, actually.

It’s nice. It feels right.

“You _cannot_ go stag, J.” Amy drones as I roll my eyes.

The White House sent across some draft seating plans for the inauguration ahead of our meeting this afternoon, and Amy has taken umbrage with my lack of a plus one.

“Why not?” I ask, glaring at her.

“People will talk.” She tells me in a serious tone.

“Let ‘em!” I exclaim, I glance at the time. Donna should be here any minute. “Don’t you have something better to do than hang around my office belittling me?”

Amy ignores me. “I have a name for you.” I look at her quizzically. “For sex, and _maybe_ an inaugural date.” She explains and I clench my jaw. “Sarah Potrero. She’s a good friend and you don’t deserve her but the world’s a cold place.” Amy continues.

“We shouldn’t do this.” I say in a low voice.

“It’s time, Joshua. You’re approaching the age where people shake their heads and roll their eyes...”

“Now you’re channeling my mother. Who, coincidentally, is named Sarah...” I smirk and Amy grins.

There’s a knock on my door and we both look up. “Look who I found,” Ronna beams, Donna stands beside her, smiling.

“Hey, I’ll be right with ya,” I tell her as I start clearing papers away.

“Donna!” Amy exclaims. “It’s been a long time. How are you?” Her tone is all-too false for my liking.

“Amy, Hi. I’m well. Congrats on the new job,” Donna says without a lick of sincerity. I have to smile at that.

“Thanks,” Amy pauses. “I guess congratulations are in order for you too.”

Donna rests her hand on her bump. “Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

“We’re gonna grab lunch and catch up,” I tell Amy as I pull my coat on and head towards to door. “I’ll meet you guys at the White House after.”

Amy nods at me then casts her glance back to Donna. “Say Donna, do you know Sarah Potrero?”

“From Justice?” Donna asks uncertainly.

“Yeah, don’t you think Josh should call her?”

“For a date.” I quickly clarify as I give Donna an uncomfortable look. “To the inauguration.”

“With you?” Donna asks unsteadily.

“Don’t you think it’s enough already?” Amy butts in.

“I’m withering on the vine.” I say sarcastically.

Donna’s face doesn’t give much away. “Sarah’s a great idea. She’s a real sweetheart.” She says in an even tone.

“See. She’s inside the beltway, but outside the building. You’d have a lot to talk about, but you wouldn’t step on each other’s heels. She’s ready for something long-term, you should pretend you are too. It’s what the grown-ups do.”

I flinch. “Sure.”

“Donna knows what I mean. She’s taken the plunge. Committed.” Amy continues.

Donna shakes her head. “Yeah, not so much,” she laughs.

“You’re not married?” Amy asks, clearly shocked. 

“No. I’m single.” Donna responds.

Amy’s cheeks flush and she looks at me with wide eyes. Donna has left her well and truly flustered.

“So, lunch?” I direct Donna out of the office and away from Amy.

We’re waiting at the elevator bank when Donna turns to me and says, “Sarah’s a doll.”

“Stop.” I urge her.

“Smart, cute, good body.” She grins.

“Okay, this is getting weird.” I stuff my hands in my pockets.

Donna simply shakes her head and chuckles at me.

“These are the seating arrangements as they stand currently,” CJ slides a copy towards the President-elect who studies them closely.

“Yeah, thanks for sending those across. We have no issues, though if some of the President’s invitees decline, we’d love to snap up those seats.” I tell CJ a hopeful grin on my face.

The President-elect frowns.

“Everything okay, sir?” Sam asks.

The President-elect turns to me, his brow furrowed. “You don’t get a plus-one?” he asks.

Amy laughs. “Josh – in his _infinite_ wisdom – has decided not to bring a date.”

“Really?” CJ looks amused. “This is the hottest ticket in town…”

“What about Donna?” the President-elect asks.

Sam shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“Donna?” CJ’s eyes widen. Margaret, who is taking minutes for the meeting, has stopped typing and looks similarly intrigued.

The President-elect is seemingly oblivious to the change of tone in the Roosevelt room, even as Sam coughs awkwardly and suggests that we move on with the meeting.

“Josh?” the President-elect continues.

“Ah, she doesn’t want to come.” I tell him quietly, my lips narrowing into a thin line.

“Really?” He looks confused.

“That’s probably for the best,” Lou comments and I immediately shoot her a glare. “What?” she exclaims. “It is.”

“And why’s that?” CJ asks.

“No, Lou’s right.” Amy confirms. “The press would have a field day if Josh brought Donna along.”

“Why?” Margaret enquires.

The President-elect looks at me nervously, suddenly realizing the mess he has stumbled into.

“Let’s get back to the meeting, shall we?” Sam suggests again.

Will pipes up from across the table. “I think that’s a good idea.”

CJ glances at Margaret and then back to me. “What’s going on with Donna?” she asks worriedly.

“I’ll tell you later.” I assure her through clenched teeth.

The President-elect slinks back into his seat.

“She’s pregnant. _Very_ pregnant.” Amy chimes in. “And un-wed. The Republicans would have a field day. Plus, it would raise all sorts of questions about Josh’s relationship with her.” Amy turns to me. “God, J, I know you’re friends, but why would you even ask her in the first place? This could’ve been a whole can of worms…”

“Donna’s pregnant?!” Will exclaims.

“Donna Moss?” Margaret clarifies.

I nod. “Uh huh.”

“I didn’t even know she was seeing anyone.” CJ says confusedly. “Let alone someone serious...”

“She’s not,” Amy replies. “I saw her earlier today and she told me she’s single.”

“What else did she say?” Margaret asks, anxious for any further gossip Amy can convey.

Amy shrugs. “Ask Josh. He just came from lunch with her.”

I feel my stomach churning and take a deep breath. The President-elect has an amused look on his face. He’s clearly moved on from any feelings of embarrassment and is now simply enjoying the show.

Sam shoots me a sympathetic look and Lou looks like she is about to burst out laughing.

“It’s my baby.” I say quietly. “I’m the father.” Jesus, is this the White House or Jerry Springer?!

I watch as a number of jaws around the table drop, and then feel the President-elect slap me on the back. “Right, well, we got there in the end.” He grins. “What’s next?”

CJ smirks at me from across the table. “I didn’t know you had it in ya, Lyman.”

**Donna:**

I immediately know that Josh has let the cat out of the bag because I have a series of missed calls on my phone, and a number of text messages from people urging me to call them right back.

I ignore them. They can wait for another day or two.

He must’ve said something while he was at the White House. Well, news travels fast, I guess.

I wonder if Amy has heard too. Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that conversation…

I grin and shake my head. We weren’t really trying to keep it a secret, we just hadn’t told too many people. It was an unspoken arrangement, I suppose. Maybe we are both a little embarrassed about the situation, or maybe we just don’t know exactly how explain it. But, aside from Ron Butterfield and the Secret Service, the only people who know are those closest to us. Our families, a smattering of Josh’s colleagues, and a few friends of mine from home.

I do feel guilty that there’s only two months to go and CJ has only just found out, though. She falls into the same category as Sam and, by rights, should have been one of our first calls.

I sigh as I think this over, and decide that I shouldn’t wait to return one phone call…

“CJ?” I smile as I hear her voice on the line. “It’s Donna…”

**Josh:**

I hear the raucous laughter as soon as I step into our building, and can’t help but grin. Of course, CJ’s here.

I make my way up to the front door and press my key into the lock.

CJ bounds to her feet the second I enter, “Mi amor!” she exclaims. “You’re home!”

I smirk at her. “Hey Ceej,” I say as I raise my eyebrows at Donna.

“Y’know, you really skedaddled after the meeting this afternoon, I didn’t even get the chance to congratulate you.” CJ lectures as she walks over to me. “Come here,” she says as she wraps me into a big hug. “The proud father-to-be!” She exclaims as she squeezes me.

I break free and roll my eyes. “Thank you,” I mutter as I take off my coat and put my backpack down.

“I was just filling Donna in…” CJ smirks as she retakes her seat on the couch and picks up a glass of wine.

“Uh huh,” I say through clenched teeth.

“How was your day, Josh?” Donna grins from her spot on the sofa.

“Eventful.” I say plainly as I walk towards to kitchen, I squeeze Donna’s shoulder as I pass behind her. CJ and Donna laugh at me and I shake my head as I grab a beer from the fridge. “You guys need anything?” I call.

“No, we’re all set,” Donna replies. “Thanks.”

I twist off the bottle top and traipse back into the living room, making a beeline for the empty spot on the couch next to Donna. She pats my knee reassuringly as I collapse next to her and let out a big sigh.

“Amy’s face was a picture,” CJ laughs and Donna can’t help but smile widely.

I groan. “Seriously?” I swill my beer and shake my head.

“Oh, lighten up,” Donna rolls her eyes at me and pats my knee again. I pretend to glare at her but a smile escapes my lips, and she grins at me in return.

“I got a call from the President this afternoon…” I announce as I look pointedly at CJ.

“Oh yeah, I might’ve mentioned something to him…” CJ admits, a wide smile on her face.

“Uh huh,” I raise my eyebrows and take another sip of beer.

“What did he say?” Donna asks.

“Well, he was a little upset that he didn’t hear the news from us.”

“I think a lot of people were.” CJ comments matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, well, secret’s out now.” I shrug, but Donna is frowning at me. “He’s happy for us,” I assure her. “Surprised, but happy.”

“I mean, he wasn’t too surprised.” CJ comments. “I think he had his suspicions about you two…”

Donna’s cheeks flush. “Well, it was nice of him to call,” she smiles.

“He made me promise that we’ll let him and the First Lady know as soon the baby’s born.” I tell Donna. “Apparently, he and Abbey are going to be rather bored once they’re out of the White House and they wouldn’t mind taking on an additional grandchild…”

Donna looks surprised. “Really?” she asks.

I shrug as I swallow a mouthful of beer. “I think he’s trying to…” I shake my head. “I dunno, fill in for Leo…?” Donna smiles at me encouragingly. “Who was trying to fill in for my dad…” I trail off.

“The place is looking good,” CJ comments as she looks around, trying to distract from my sudden burst of sentimentality.

I nod in agreement. “We moved some of Donna’s stuff in at the weekend.” I explain.

“And Josh has hired a housekeeper…” Donna smirks.

CJ laughs. “You’re a changed man, Lyman.”

I roll my eyes at the both of them. “You wanna see the nursery?” I ask CJ.

She looks surprised but nods eagerly. “Lead the way, mi amor!”

“It’s very blue,” CJ comments as she looks around.

I had the room painted while the Secret Service contractors were upgrading the place.

“It’s a boy,” I explain.

“I know,” she tells me curtly. “I’m all caught up.”

Donna leans against the door jamb and grins at us.

“These are cute,” CJ says as she picks up a photo frame from the dresser.

I make my way over to her and take a closer look. They’re baby photos of Donna and I. “They’re new…” I say quietly.

“I thought it was a nice touch.” Donna explains. “Also, you have like no pictures up.” I look at her quizzically. “What? It gives off serial killer vibes…” she jokes.

I groan and shake my head.

“Is this the wee fella?” CJ asks as she picks up a framed picture of the latest sonogram.

“Yep, that’s little bug.” I confirm, and CJ raises her eyebrows at me. “What?”

“Who are you and what have you done with Josh Lyman?” she jokes. I rake a hand through my hair and roll my eyes. “Do babies really need this much stuff?” CJ asks as she takes in the packed nursery.

“Not really,” Donna grins in response. “Turns out Josh can be quite the consumer…” CJ grins.

“Alright, that’s enough prying in the nursery.” I announce as I usher them out and switch off the light.

“You wanted to show it off!” Donna exclaims as we make our way back to the living room.

“Well, she’s seen it now.” I respond dryly. CJ simply laughs at our bickering.

I sit with them for a while longer, enjoying my beer and catching up on what’s happening with CJ. It feels really nice to be relaxing with friends again, and it feels even nicer draping my arm around Donna as we laze on the couch. Every so often, little bug will want to join the party – CJ’s convinced that he loves her laugh – so my hand is resting on Donna’s bump in order to feel his kicks.

I’m conscious Donna hasn’t had much time with her friends recently, so, once I finish my beer, I excuse myself and head into my room to do some work. It’s cramped and windowless, but it functions surprisingly well.

I leave the door slightly ajar so I can continue to hear the murmurings of their conversation – and CJ’s great laugh – while I work.

It’s been about an hour when I realize that I haven’t heard any squeals of laughter in quite a while. My head quirks as I close my laptop and sit back in my chair. I can hear Donna and CJ speaking in hushed tones. Their discussion seems to have taken on a greater intensity. I stand quietly and make my way closer to the open door.

“…I dunno, Ceej,” I hear Donna sigh. “It’s really complicated.”

CJ groans. “How is it complicated? You’re both head over heels for one another…you always have been.”

“We tried it. It didn’t work. And, now, we have a baby to think about.” Donna whispers in response.

“All the more reason to try again, if you ask me.” I hear CJ say as she refills her wine glass.

Donna sighs again. “You know what he’s like…” she says exasperatedly. “We were at each other’s throats. It wasn’t good...”

“You were on opposing campaigns!” CJ explains in the raised whisper. “The playing field is remarkably different now!” Donna doesn’t respond. “Look, all I’m saying is, the two of you have always been good together…”

I hear Donna take a deep breath. “Just drop it, Ceej…” she pleads.

CJ sighs. “Okay, okay. But Donna?”

“What?”

“Do you really think this arrangement is sustainable? I mean, what happens when you meet someone?”

“I’m not looking,” Donna insists.

“That’s exactly when it happens…” CJ replies. “How are you going to explain the fact that your ex is camped out in the study? Are you two gonna implement a sock on the door handle system?!”

“We’re not going to be here forever.” Donna maintains, and I gulp. “If it weren’t for him getting a detail, we wouldn’t be here at all…”

I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and drive my fingernails into the palms of my hands.


	12. Chapter 12

_17 January 2007_

**Donna:**

Things with Josh have been strange the last few days. He hasn’t said anything, but I feel as though a big chasm has opened up between us.

He’s been leaving for work far earlier than usual, and coming home much later. I know he’s only a few days away from the inauguration and there’s still a lot to do, but I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s actively trying to avoid me.

I have an appointment with my obstetrician today – another scan and some bloodwork. After I missed him this morning, I called his office phone to confirm he could still make the appointment. Carol answered – because Josh finally took my advice and hired her – and assured me it remained in his calendar. “Why don’t you come in beforehand?” she suggested, “I’d love to see you!”

I haven’t been in to the OEOB since that day with Amy, so basically, I haven’t stepped foot in Josh’s office since before our ‘secret’ came out. And to be honest, I’m a little apprehensive about doing so. Especially since there seems to be this weird tension between Josh and I at present…

I try not to think about that and convince myself that I have every right to drop in to see my friends and collect the father of my baby prior to a doctor’s appointment. Still, my hands are clammy when I step out of the elevator.

“Donna!” Carol spots me immediately and rushes over, enveloping me in a big hug. “You look incredible!”

I squeeze her back. “Thanks, Carol,” I grin.

She places her hands on my upper arms and steps back to marvel at my bump. “Seriously though, you actually have that whole pregnant woman glow going on!”

I roll my eyes. “Really? I feel so enormous and gross…”

“Nonsense.” Carol dismisses. “You look amazing!”

I smile at her and hear another voice beside me. “Hey stranger,” Sam grins.

“Hi,” I turn and give him a quick hug. We’ve seen each other a couple of times since I’ve been back in DC, he even helped Josh to hang some shelves in the nursery last weekend.

“Josh didn’t mention you were coming in,” he tells me.

I shrug. “Oh, we have a scan shortly, so I figured I’d just pick him up.”

Sam looks for something behind me. “You don’t get an entourage?” he asks.

Josh’s detail started last week, so there’s permanently a presence outside our front door now. Thankfully though, I’m free to come and go as I please and drive my own car without company, at least until little bug arrives.

“Nope, that’s reserved for him, and this wee guy once he’s born.” I rub my bump. Sam nods sympathetically. “It’s a little weird having them outside all the time” I admit.

“I bet,” Sam agrees. “Well, I’ll catch you later.”

“Bye Sam.”

“You wanna wait in Josh’s office?” Carol asks. “He’s just in with the President-elect, he shouldn’t be too much longer.”

I nod. “Sounds good,” I follow Carol and she continues pestering me with questions about the baby. Have we settled on a name? Which hospital am I birthing at? Is Josh taking parental leave? Is my Mom coming out from Wisconsin to help me?

I smile politely and answer her questions, but, while I’m touched by her interest, I’m a little overwhelmed. Plus, I can’t help but think that she sees Josh every day, why can’t he answer her questions? Why does it always fall to the mother…?

I settle myself on the couch in Josh’s office and another friendly face pops their head in. “Hi Ronna,” I smile.

“Hey! How are you feeling?” She beams.

“Like I beached whale…” I lament.

Ronna laughs. “Well, you look great. Not much longer, huh?”

I shrug. “Not that I’m counting or anything…”

Ronna laughs. “See you,” she says as leaves.

“I better get back to work too,” Carol tells me. “You okay here?”

I nod. “Of course. It’s so great to see you, Carol.” I smile warmly.

“You too. And thanks again for mentioning my name to Josh.”

I raise my eyebrows. “I hope he’s not too much trouble.”

Carol rolls her eyes. “Oh, he has his moments…” she tells me as she leaves the office.

I sit back and sigh. Plenty of interested staffers are staring in the window that looks into Josh’s office as they walk past, seemingly eager to catch a glimpse of Josh’s ‘baby mama’.

While our news hasn’t hit the media yet, it’s apparently common knowledge on the streets of DC. And everyone seems to be intrigued at the fact we’re not dating, but we are living together. I can kind of see where that stems from. I mean, there are times when I wonder exactly why we’re doing what we’re doing…

My daydreaming is interrupted as Josh bounds into his office and starts frantically searching his desk for something. He has a pen clenched between his teeth, his tie is skewwhiff, and his shirt sleeves are haphazardly rolled up. He hasn’t even noticed me sitting on the couch.

“Carol!” He hollers. “Where did you put that memo from the DoD?!”

“Josh,” I call, stilting him from his mania.

He looks at me confusedly. “Hey. What are you doin’ here? I thought I was meeting you at the thing?”

I shrug. “Thought I’d pick you up.”

He nods slowly as Carol enters his office and thrusts a folder into his hands. “Here,” she says sternly. “What did I tell you about the yelling?” Josh rolls his eyes. “Oh, and Donna’s waiting in your office.”

“Yes, thank you. I can see that…” Josh groans sarcastically as Carol walks away.

“Can you still make it?” I ask.

Josh flicks through the folder distractedly. “Uh huh…” He furrows his brow and holds up a finger as he briskly walks out of this office. “Just, ah, gimme a minute.”

I sigh and shake my head. “Okay.”

He leaves me waiting a few minutes before walking in and quirking his head so I follow him. “The President-elect wants to say hi,” he explains.

I take a closer look at him and confirm that he really is back to his disheveled best. “Okay.” I reply as we start down the corridor, walking side-by-side. “How are you doing?”

Josh whips his head towards me and his stride falters. “Whaddaya mean?” he asks.

“I haven’t seen much of you lately.”

“Oh, yeah.” He runs his hand through his hair and gives me a half smile. “It’s all systems go here ahead of the inauguration.”

I nod slowly as he holds a door open for me to walk through.

“Miss Moss,” comes the President-elect’s booming voice. “It’s good to see you again.” He smiles and steps forward to shake my hand.

“Mr. President-elect,” I smile. “It’s nice to see you too. Congratulations.”

The President-elect nods, a broad smile still etched across his face. “And to you.”

I instinctively cradle my bump. “Thanks,” I reply.

“I don’t think you’ve met my wife, Helen.”

“No,” I smile at her. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Santos.”

She grins. “You too, Donna. I’ve heard a lot about you from Josh.” Josh shifts uncomfortably, his hands clasped behind his back. “And please, call me Helen.”

I shoot Josh a sly smile. “All good things, I hope, Helen.”

“Oh, Josh has plenty of good stories about you, chicken fighter.” The President-elect smirks.

I roll my eyes. “I’m never gonna live that down, huh?”

“I’m afraid not.” The President-elect laughs.

“Well, ah, we should get going. We’ve got an appointment to get to,” Josh interrupts, placing a hand on the small of my back.

“Of course,” Helen smiles. “I hope we see you again soon, Donna.”

Josh is pacing round the exam room nervously. I lean back on the table and watch him curiously.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the linoleum,” I tell him, and he turns to look at me.

“What?” he asks with a screwed-up face.

“All that marching…” I respond. “Come and sit down.”

Josh sighs and makes his way over to the chair. “What’s taking her so long?” He asks as he checks his watch.

“Relax, Josh. What’s the rush?”

“Well, Donna,” he says in an annoyed tone. “I have a lot of work to be getting back to.”

“You know, I’m supposed to be the one with the erratic mood swings…” I tease him, but he refuses to meet my eye. I roll my eyes and settle back into exam table. “Have you given anymore thought to a name?” I ask.

Josh’s head perks up. “Ah, not really.” He admits.

I shrug. “We’ve still got plenty of time,” I assure him.

Josh nods. “You’ve got a list, right?”

“Uh huh,” I confirm. “I left it on the dining table for you.”

“When?”

“A few days ago.”

Josh nods. “I’ve been busy.”

“You always are…” I say in a bubbly tone as I smirk at him.

“I don’t want anything Italian.” Josh tells me, he’s leaning forward with his elbows balanced on his knees. “The kid’s Jewish, he can’t be called Romeo…”

“Well, he’s half Jewish, a quarter Italian, and a quarter Irish…” I tease.

Josh rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying Romeo Lyman doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”

“How about Romeo Moss-Lyman?” I ask.

Josh’s head quirks up at me. “You want to double barrel?” he asks, a frown on his face.

I shrug. “I dunno, just a thought.”

Josh groans. “Okay,” he says through gritted teeth.

“What about something strong, like River or Storm?” I ask.

Josh narrows his gaze. “Are those the kinds of names on your list?” He questions.

“There’s lots of names on my list.” I reply as I pat my bump. “Jacob, Tyler, Harvey, Thomas, Alexander, Luke…”

Josh purses his lips and begins toying with his hands. “His middle name should be Noah,” he tells me quietly.

Noah was his dad’s name.

I glance over and see him staring at the floor. “Josh?” I say quietly.

“Mmmhmm,” he doesn’t look up.

“Noah’s perfect. I love it.” I tell him sincerely.

I see him swallow and he looks up at me, his brown eyes filled tears. “Yeah, well…”

I pause. “Okay, so we have a middle name. We just need to decide on his first name…” Josh sits back and rests his head against the wall. “Maybe we could find a way to honor Leo, too?”

Josh shakes his head. “Leo Noah Lyman?” He scoffs. “Talk about heaping pressure on the kid…” I grin, but Josh quickly lifts his head to look at me. “Moss-Lyman,” he corrects himself.

“No. Just Lyman.” I confirm.

“Yeah?” He asks, hopefully.

“Yeah.”

Josh smiles.

“So, I see we have company today…” Dr Roskill interrupts as she enters the room, holding my chart.

There are two, armed Secret Service agents standing guard outside the exam room. Two rather unfriendly looking Secret Service agents…

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Josh tells her.

“Oh, don’t be. I’m a doctor in DC, we get all sorts in here.” Dr Roskill grins. “How are you feeling, Donna?”

I prop myself up and look at her. “Yeah, fine.” I smile.

“Settling into DC?” She asks.

“Yes. We have a fully furnished nursery and everything now.” I tell her.

Dr Roskill beams. “Great. It’s an exciting time for you both,” she says as she looks at the two of us. “Now, Donna, all your information has come in from Dr Klein’s office. So, we’re all set,” she smiles. “Have you decided which hospital you’ll be birthing at?”

I look towards Josh. “Ah, GW,” he confirms to Dr Roskill. “Secret Service requirement.” He explains.

I’ve spent enough time in that hospital for a lifetime – and so has Josh – but we’re at Ron Butterfield’s mercy, and apparently that’s the only hospital the Service can lockdown to an appropriate level. When Josh told me, he’d immediately set about reassuring me, “Maybe it’ll be nice to have some happy memories there…”

Dr Roskill nods slowly. “Of course,” she makes a note in my chart. “And you’ve been attending Lamaze classes?”

“Yes.” I confirm.

“Together?” Dr Roskill prods.

We decided Josh should skip the Lamaze classes. They’re so public and we’re still trying to keep the pregnancy relatively under wraps for fear of media attention. Plus, the Secret Service would have to be present which would draw even more attention.

“Just me,” I reply quickly. “Josh is pretty busy right now.”

Dr Roskill nods. “You know, Mr. Lyman, those classes aren’t just helpful in preparing the mother for the birth. We find they’re invaluable in assuring the father is equipped too.”

Josh shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, I’ll see about joining the next one.”

“Of course, I understand they’re a bit strange…” Dr Roskill continues. “A little too coupley, if you ask me.”

I snicker. “Oh yeah,” I raise my eyebrows and grin knowingly at Dr Roskill. “Particularly the ones in Georgetown…”

“I shudder to think,” Dr Roskill laughs. “Now let’s check in on Master Lyman, shall we?”

Josh shuffles closer as Dr Roskill readies me for the ultrasound. I watch him as he closely studies my uncovered bump, his face blank. “You okay?” I ask.

He glances at me. “Yeah,” he shrugs.

The sound of our son’s heartbeat fills the room, and Josh’s face relaxes a little. I reach for his hand and he tentatively allows me to grasp it. “There’s our boy.” I smile as no-first-name-yet Noah Lyman’s side profile appears on the monitor. Josh squeezes my hand.

_20 January 2007: Inauguration Day_

**Donna:**

It’s strange to be watching the inauguration from my living room. I’m become accustomed to being in the crowd, to being part of the planning for the day, and part of the festivities that follow.

I can’t complain. I was given the opportunity to attend today, but I’m almost eight months pregnant and the thought of sitting outside in the freezing cold for three hours is definitely not appealing.

Additionally, I think attending on the arm of Josh Lyman, White House Chief of Staff, would further muddy the already murky waters of our relationship, as well as provide ample fodder for Mary Marsh and her fellow conservative pundits.

So instead, I’m witnessing President Santos take the oath of office from the comfort of Josh’s couch, clad in my coziest pajamas.

I’ve narrated the entire inauguration for little bug. Pointing out President Bartlet and the First Lady, explaining that Uncle Sam wrote President Santos’ stellar address, and squealing with delight each time Josh appears on the screen.

“There’s your Daddy, little bug,” I pat my belly gently. “You know he put both of those fine Presidents in office…”

When the broadcast ends, I switch off the television and head into the kitchen to boil the kettle. I imagine that the motorcade will be pulling up the White House about now, and Josh will be escorting President Santos into the Oval.

They have a few hours of briefing and downtime before the inaugural balls begin. A few hours to adjust to their new roles…

I smile warmly as I remember the first time that I set foot in the bullpen. I recall marveling at how much I’d accomplished. I couldn’t believe that I, Donna Moss, college drop-out from Wisconsin, had a desk inside of the White House. I cast my mind back to helping an over-excited Josh arrange his office. He’d literally picked me up and twirled me around the empty space that afternoon. I grin and cradle my bump affectionately. We had no idea what lay ahead.

The kettle boils and I make myself a cup of green tea. I also go to the trouble of making some coffee and then take a hot mug to the front door.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Logan, today’s rostered agent, smiles as he takes the mug from me. “How was the speech?” he asks, before blowing on the hot coffee.

Logan had denied my earlier invitation for him to come inside to watch the address, and had even balked at my suggestion of leaving the front door open so he could hear it. It was against protocol, apparently…

“Brilliant.” I tell him proudly.

“I have no doubt,” Logan grins as I head back inside and begin to shut the door. “Thanks again.”

I really don’t mind looking after the guys that are assigned to us. It feels like the least I could do, given they’ve agreed to throw themselves in front of a bullet for the father of my baby. They’re not really here to protect me, as such, but more to keep the house secure while Josh is away.

Josh is rather uncomfortable about the whole thing. It’s put far more limitations on his lifestyle than it has mine. At least for now, once the baby’s here, he’ll have a full detail of his own, which means that I kinda will too. I’m already seeing how the perceived lack of autonomy is annoying Josh, and I don’t expect I’ll handle it much better.

The other day I tried to calm Josh down by suggesting that after six months – once a Vice President had been confirmed – Ron would no longer deem Josh’s detail necessary. Somehow though, I managed to upset him further.

**Josh:**

“Donna?” I call as I open the front door and scan the living room.

“I’m in here,” I hear her call from her bedroom.

I shrug off my coat and make my way down to see her. “You okay?” I ask when I spot her under the comforter.

“A little tired,” she explains. “How are you doing?”

I beam at her. “Whaddaya think?” I ask.

“Very impressive,” she grins in response. “An inaugural address that will stand the test of time.” She tells me satirically.

I nod approvingly. “What are the networks saying?” I turn to face the television set that she has playing silently in the bedroom.

“Well, aside from the uproar about Mrs. Santos’ coat color, it’s all very positive.” Donna assures me.

I roll my eyes. “Jeez, they fixate on the dumbest shit.” I sigh and start loosening my tie.

“You good?” Donna asks.

“Yeah,” I exhale. “Buzzing.” I grin at her.

She smirks. “Tonight, you drink from the keg of glory…” she says mockingly.

I laugh at her. “I’m just gonna shower and get changed,” I tell her as I walk into the bathroom.

“You better hurry, CNN is already covering arrivals at the Liberty Ball.” I hear her call as I start to undress.

I’ve gotta admit, I look _damn fine_ in a tuxedo. I mean, everybody does, but I’m looking particularly dashing tonight, if I do say so myself…

“Josh?” Donna calls.

“Uh huh?”

“It’s 6 o’clock.”

“Okay!” I shout in response. It’s kind of cute how Donna insists on keeping me on schedule, despite no longer being my assistant.

I pull my suspenders onto my shoulders and walk out into the living room. Donna’s relocated to the sofa, still wearing her pajamas.

I furrow my brow and start scanning the room “Have you seen my…” I trail off as Donna simply points to the shiny dress shoes discarded next to the bookshelf. “Thanks,” I grin as I bend down to put them on.

“What would you do without me?” Donna smirks.

I roll my eyes. Tonight, I’m far too excited to unpack any possible subtext in that comment.

“You want me to do your bowtie?” Donna asks when she spots it hanging out of my pocket.

“Would you?” I ask hopefully and she nods as I walk towards her.

She pushes herself up from the sofa so we’re standing eye-to-eye, and I grin at her mischievously.

“What?” she demands.

“I was just wondering at what time of the day you switch from your daytime time pajamas to your night time ones…” I say cheekily.

Donna glares at me. “Do you want your bowtie tied?” She asks point-blank.

“Yes, please.” I tell her in sickly-sweet tone.

Donna rolls her eyes and drapes the fabric around my neck, before nimbly up-turning my collar with her fingers. She’s done this for me countless times before, and I always love it. It’s an intensely intimate procedure which routinely sends shivers down my spine

“You know you did this to me…” Donna laments as she fusses with my bowtie.

“Did what?”

“Turned me into this pajama-wearing, daytime-napping, slovenly, lazy oaf…” She continues.

I roll my eyes. “Now Donna, it takes two to tango…” I chide her gently.

“Indeed, it does,” she smooths my collar down and tugs on the points of my bowtie, ensuring its perfectly level. “And whom will you be tangoing with tonight, Joshua?” she asks, a wicked grin on her face.

I feel my cheeks flush. “No one.” I say a little too quickly.

Donna pats down the shoulders of my tuxedo jacket. “You look very handsome, Josh. I wouldn’t be so sure…” She grins at me again, but this time I can’t tell if it’s genuine.

I look at her quizzically. “Everyone looks good in a tux.”

“Some more so than others…” She takes a step back to inspect me before signalling for me to turn around, I sigh and roll my eyes again before complying with her request.

“I’ll be working.” I tell Donna as she plucks lint off the back of my jacket.

“Not all night.” Donna replies.

I turn to her. “You know what these things are like.” Donna quirks her head at me. “Boring people, flat champagne, everyone schmoozing you…” I continue.

Donna looks away wistfully. “Well, there’s also dancing. I remember the dancing.”

I smirk and look down. I remember the dancing too. Dancing with Donna. Dancing far too close than is proper to dance with one’s assistant, and sliding my hands far too low down her back…

That one year when she wore that open-backed gown. God damn.

“You remember too…” Donna taunts me, as she takes a step forward to fiddle with my bowtie.

I grin and lift my chin so she can make her adjustments. As she works, her hands caress my neck softly and I have to gulp in order to continue thinking clearly.

“You look great,” she tells me, her hands now resting against my chest.

I note that she hasn’t taken a step backwards, and look down at her curiously. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before hers dart away. I gulp again and move my hand to her face, gently lifting her chin so she’s looking at me once more.

“Donna?” I say quietly.

She doesn’t reply and I feel myself move closer to her, her bump now pressing into my stomach. I lick my lips slowly and then move forward to press them to hers.

She returns the kiss immediately. Moving her hands from my chest to my cheeks, before running them through my hair. I shift us backwards until I feel her hit the wall, then continue my greedy assault on her mouth. We break apart for a second and I move along her jawline towards her ear, then down to her neck, dotting open-mouthed kisses along the way.

Suddenly, Donna lifts her head and pushes her hands against my chest, separating us.

I move my head back to look at her. “Donna?” I ask.

“Josh,” she lifts a hand and wipes her mouth. “You’re gonna be late...”

“Donna.” I say again, my arms by my sides. I gulp and hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

“You’re gonna be late.” Donna repeats before sliding past me and walking towards her room.

“Donna.” I say again, louder this time, but she doesn’t turn around.

I catch sight of myself in the entryway mirror. Flushed and breathless. I rake my hands through my hair before taking a deep breath. As I squeeze my eyes shut to try to process what just happened, I hear the bedroom door close.

Upon realizing there’s an uncomfortable bulge in my pants, I shake my head incredulously, and reach down to ‘reposition’.

Finally, with a clenched jaw, I grab my overcoat and slip out the front door, slamming it shut behind me.

I watch as the two agents posted outside subtly exchange a look with one another. “Let’s go.” I instruct one of them gruffly.

The agent touches his earpiece, “Bulldog is on the move.” He says as I stride along the hall.

We’ve just arrived at the fourth inaugural ball. Halfway done.

I’ve been approaching the balls in a ‘get it over and done with’ manner for much of the night. I’m just eager to get the hell out of here and head home. That being said, I’m not entirely thrilled about the prospect of going home…

Sam’s fiancée, Natalie, is standing beside me, pointing out faces in the crowd and incessantly asking, “Is that really who I think it is?”.

When she says it for about the sixth time, I quirk my head to face her and reply curtly, “Given you’re at an inaugural ball for the President of the United States, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that it is, in fact, exactly who you think it is.”

Natalie’s face falls before she steels me with a stony look. Sam, returning from the bar with two glasses of champagne, notices the frostiness immediately. He doesn’t bother to ask Natalie what’s happened, he simply places the drinks on the table and pulls me to one side. “You’ve been in a crappy mood all night,” he complains. “Pull your head in. Stop being a jerk.” I roll my eyes and shake my head at him. “Seriously, Josh. You’re at an inaugural ball, this is _your_ night.”

“Actually, this is _his_ night,” I tell Sam as I gesture to President Santos and the First Lady who are dancing together as an adoring crowd looks on.

“Yeah, well, it’s kinda your night too. You put him up there.” Sam continues. “What’s going on with you?”

I clutch my glass of scotch tightly. “Nothing.” I look down. “I’m just a grumpy bastard,” I grin. Sam doesn’t buy it, he folds his arms and leans back, watching me closely as I take a long sip of from my glass. “What?” I demand, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Seriously?” Sam prods.

I clench my jaw and look off to the side. “Donna and I kissed. Tonight.”

Sam nods slowly. “Is that unusual?” I shoot him a perplexed look. “That is to say, I mean, she’s pregnant…you must’ve kissed before…”

I raise my eyebrows. “You know how we’re not together…” I tell him, my arms undulating as I will him to understand. “That means there’s been no kissing. For quite a while…”

“I get that. What I don’t get is why you’re so mad about kissing her tonight.” Sam explains.

I glare at him, and watch as Natalie approaches us. “You guys okay?”

I nod. “Sorry. I’m a jerk.” I half-smile at her.

Natalie shrugs. “I know.”

Sam wraps an arm around her and pulls her close. “Josh is upset because he and Donna kissed tonight,” he tells her quietly.

“You don’t want to kiss Donna?” Natalie quizzes me. Natalie and Donna have met a couple of times when Sam brought her to my apartment, and they get on pretty well, but I don’t think they’re much past the ‘acquaintance’ phase. As such, Natalie likely has no idea of the complexity of mine and Donna’s relationship.

I glare at Sam. “She pulled away,” I explain. “During the kissing. She pulled away…” I trail off.

Sam and Natalie nod sympathetically before giving one another a knowing look.

“Hey Josh, there’s a couple people you need to meet.” Carol suddenly appears and starts tugging on my jacket sleeve.

“Duty calls,” I raise my glass to Sam and Natalie as I follow Carol.

“This is Brook Caldwell, Chancellor of Syracuse University, and his lovely wife, Nancy.” Carol makes introductions, as I plaster a smile on my face and enthusiastically shake hands. “And His Excellency Dr Naveen Arman, Ambassador of India.”

“Great to see you again, Ambassador Arman,” I grin. “How’s the family?”

“Very good, Mr. Lyman. I was hoping I might get a chance to speak to you this evening. I’d love to update you on the situation in Kashmir…”

“Oh goody,” I say with false enthusiasm.

“I’m sure we can find an appropriate time in the Chief of Staff’s diary, Ambassador Arman.” Carol assures him, as she manages to maneuver herself in between him and I. “Josh, this is Lily Bennet and Eduardo Velez from MSF International…”

“Nicely done,” I whisper to Carol as the introductions continue.

Finally, the receiving line comes to an end and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“You good?” Carol asks as I drag a hand through my hair.

“Mmmhmm.” I reply.

“Okay. The motorcade is leaving for the next ball in twenty,” she tells me before glancing around the crowded room. “You need me for anything else?” she asks and I shake my head. “Great, because Bram has promised me a dance…”

I raise my eyebrows and suppress a smirk. “Enjoy.” I tell Carol as she sets off in search of Bram.

Twenty minutes. More than enough time for another drink. I really should be watching my intake, given my sensitive system and all that, but to hell with it. It’s like Sam said, it’s kinda my night…

I make my way up to the bar and order another scotch on the rocks.

I lean against the bar and push the glass – wet with condensation – to my forehead and take a deep breath. Only four more balls to go…

“Excuse me?” I hear a voice behind me and spin around. “You’re Josh Lyman, right?” A woman in a black, tight-fitting ballgown is smiling widely at me.

“Ah, yeah,” I confirm as I extend my hand to her. “And you are?”

“Olivia Beaumont,” she replies as she shakes my hand.

“Nice to meet you,” I smile.

She grins. “I’m a big fan.”

I tilt my head to one side. “Really?”

“Really.” She confirms.

I nod slowly, a slight smirk on my face. “And what do you do, Olivia?”

“Call me Liv,” she tells me as she places her purse on the bar beside me and signals for a bartender. “I manage an art gallery, over on Delaware Ave.”

I raise my eyebrows and nod. “So, you’re not a jaded bureaucrat then?”

“Quite the opposite.” Liv confirms before turning to the bartender. “Can I get a dry vodka martini?” I smile and survey the crowd while she orders. “Big night for you.” Liv comments as she turns so we both have our backs to the bar.

“Yeah,” I reply, taking a sip of my scotch.

“And yet, you look so morose…”

I shrug. “I have four more of these to go tonight.” I explain.

“See, where you went wrong was not bringing a date.” Liv tells me in an upbeat tone.

I glance at her. “I really should know better.” I admit jokingly and she smiles at me. “What about you?” I ask.

Liv picks up her cocktail glass and samples her drink, before shrugging at me. “I was only gifted one ticket…” she explains, and I nod slowly. “You, on the other hand, I’m sure you could’ve wrangled a second.”

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda,” I lament as I turn to look at her with a grin on my face.

She’s young. Well, younger than me. Probably, mid-thirties. She has dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

“Your bowtie’s crooked,” Liv tells me.

I smirk. “If you knew me, you’d know that’s not at all uncommon…”

Liv laughs and reaches up to adjust it. “You wear bowties enough for this to be a regular problem?” she chides.

“Bowties, neckties…” I expand, my hands thrashing about as I do so.

Liv laughs and pats the lapels of my jacket down.

We’re flirting. I haven’t flirted in a while. Not with someone who isn’t Donna. Liv is a stunning woman and she’s flirting with me. It feels good. I feel wanted. I’m looking at her longingly as her eyes continue tracking down my body.

She bites her lip and tilts her head up to me. “Are you seeing anyone, Josh?” she asks.

I open my mouth to respond, before pausing and closing it again. Liv narrows her eyes. “It’s complicated,” I explain. It’s the only truly honest answer I can give.

She smirks. “I’m sure.”

“Josh,” a voice calls and Liv’s hands immediately drop from my lapels. “Motorcade’s getting ready to go,” Otto tells me and I nod at him.

I down what’s left in my glass and place it on the bar. “It was nice to meet you, Liv.” I smile.

Liv grins. “You too, Josh. What’s your next stop?” she asks.

“The DAR ball,” I furrow my brow. “I think…” I shrug at her. “They all kinda merge into one.”

“Oh yeah? Does an art dealer accost you at each one?” Liv asks, her blue eyes gleaming.

“Yeah, but they’re not generally so attractive.” I joke as I walk away.

“Who was _that_?!” Otto asks, his eyes wide as saucers.

“Mind your business.” I scold him playfully.

_21 January 2007_

When I wake the following morning, my head is absolutely pounding, and as I attempt to open my eyes, the piercing daylight makes my entire body ache. I groan and pull a pillow over my head.

“Josh,” someone nudges me. “Sit up and take these.”

I groan again before forcing my body upright. Donna is sitting on the edge of the bed, a glass of water and two aspirin in her hands.

I squint at her before sighing deeply. I can barely remember a thing, which isn’t ideal given I’ve woken up in _her_ bed.

“Here, drink this and swallow these.” She forces the water and pills into my clammy hands.

Begrudgingly, I do as I’m told. “What happened last night?” I ask after downing the aspirin.

Donna grins. “Your sensitive system happened, Joshua.”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously, Donna.” I whine.

“It seems you came home relatively sober – well, at least according to the Secret Service – but then you decided to help yourself to the liquor cabinet…” Donna tells me.

“In fairness, it is _my_ liquor cabinet. I’m perfectly entitled to help myself…” I grin.

Donna rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah, does it still seem like a good idea this morning?” I ignore her. “Joshua?!” She yells.

I flinch. “Shhh, speak quietly.”

Donna shakes her head in disbelief. “Anyway, you woke me at about 5am throwing up in the bathroom. I had to get one of the guys to help me put you to bed…”

I groan and press a hand to my head. “Your bed?” I quirk my eyebrows.

Donna shrugs and looks down at the comforter. “It was closest.”

“So, where did you sleep?” I ask.

“I didn’t. I’ve been up since five o’clock.”

“Sorry,” I tell her. “God, this is bad.” I mutter. “The White House Chief of Staff can’t be getting drunk in public…”

“You didn’t. You got drunk in the privacy of your own home.” Donna explains.

I cast my mind back. She’s right, actually. I didn’t have anything further to drink at the last four balls. I stuck to seltzer, despite the fact that the absence of alcohol made the final ‘grip and grins’ entirely unbearable. So unbearable, in fact, that I came home and decided to drown my sorrows with my good friends, Jack and Jim.

“Sorry,” I mumble as I look up at Donna.

“It’s fine,” she assures me. “Though I am going to have to change these sheets now…they stink of bourbon.” She leans forward and inspects the comforter. “And vomit.” She screws her face up. “You stink too. Get in the shower.”

I roll my eyes and sink back into the bed. “Five more minutes.” I plead, enjoying the comfort of a proper mattress as opposed to the fold-out to which I’ve become accustomed.

“I’m making you breakfast,” Donna tells me as she walks out of the room. “Eggs, bacon, hash brown, the works…”

My ears perk up. “Really?”

“Yes. I am a saint and you do not deserve my kindness.” Donna responds. “But you’re only eating if you bathe. You’re making me nauseous right now…”

I smirk and roll myself out of the bed.

**Donna:**

He still looks like shit when he emerges from the shower, but at least he doesn’t smell like a distillery anymore. He’s wearing sweatpants and an old Yale t-shirt, his chestnut curls sticking up haphazardly. “Feel better?” I ask as I dish his breakfast.

He looks at me timidly. “A little,” he admits as he slides into his seat. “Thanks for all this.”

I smile and serve another couple of plates. “Who’re they for?” Josh asks with a mouthful of food.

“Pete and Richie,” I reply, as I make my way to front door.

Josh groans. “Donna,” he whines. “You don’t have to feed them...”

“One of those men tucked the vomit-covered, unconscious, White House Chief of Staff into bed last night, Josh.” I tell him sternly as I open the door. “And I’m not gonna tell you which one…” Josh gulps and his cheeks redden. “Here you go, guys.” I say as I hand them their plates.

“Thanks, Miss Moss.” They chorus.

I leave the door open as I dash back to the table to grab two mugs of coffee for them.

Richie sticks his head in and grins at Josh. “How’re ya feelin’, Mr. Lyman?”

Josh grimaces. “Oh, just dandy, Richie. Thank you.” He says sarcastically, a scowl on his face.

I bite my lip and try to hide the smirk on my face as I hand the agents their mugs. “Thanks for your help last night.” I whisper. They simply grin at me.

“Have we got today’s paper?” Josh asks as I settle back in at the table.

“On the coffee table,” I tell him as take a bite of my omelet. I watch as Josh wanders over to retrieve the Post. “You’re in there.” He simply nods as he scans the front page, eager to see how the inaugural address is being spun by the media. “The balls looked very glamorous,” I continue. “The First Lady was absolutely stunning.”

Josh nods and flicks through the paper. “Uh huh.”

“There’s a good photo of you and the President with the campaign staff,” I tell him as I study his face.

Josh looks up at me and nods. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I confirm.

I watch as he reaches the center of the paper where there’s a double-spread of the inaugural festivities. What I have neglected to tell him is that there’s a rather large photo of him making heart eyes at a leggy brunette in a black gown while she adjusts his bowtie. The photo is accompanied by the caption: ‘New White House Chief of Staff – and perpetual bachelor – Josh Lyman attended the inaugural balls without a date, but was on the receiving end of much attention, including from this mystery brunette’.

I watch as Josh’s eyes widen as he spots the photo and then reads the caption. He gulps and then looks at me nervously.

“What?” I ask.

He tosses the newspaper back on the coffee table, and runs a hand through his unruly hair. “There’s a dumb photo in there…” he remarks. “Did you see it?”

“You and the ‘mystery brunette’?” I laugh. I feel I’m doing a good job of hiding any underlying jealousy.

Josh rolls his eyes. “I mean, honestly, they bother writing about some random woman I run into at the bar? What about the education commitments the President made in his address?! I mean, that’s newsworthy!” He’s flustered.

I look at him quizzically. “You okay?” I ask as he slumps back into his chair.

Josh sighs. “Can we talk about last night?” I hurriedly stand up and start clearing our plates. “Stop, Donna, I’ll do that. I’ll do the dishes.” Josh tells me.

“It’s fine,” I force a smile as I walk towards the kitchen. “And I’m sorry about last night.” I tell him as I turn the tap on and start rinsing our plates. “I don’t really know what came over me.”

Josh has followed me into the kitchen, he steps forward and turns the tap off. “Donna,” he sighs.

“What?” I ask.

“We kissed.”

I shrug. “We’ve kissed before.” Josh’s jaw clenches. “Look, I dunno. You look good in a tux,” I laugh. “Plus, all these damn pregnancy hormones…”

“Donna…” Josh whines.

“And, you know, I couldn’t kiss you four years ago when you showed up at my place wearing that tux…” I babble.

Josh shakes his head. “Donna.”

“Josh, stop saying my name like that.” I snap.

“Why?”

“It’s annoying. You’re annoying me.” I say dismissively.

“Can we talk about this, please.” Josh begs.

“We’re talking.”

“ _You’re_ talking.” Josh corrects me.

“It didn’t mean anything, Josh.”

He screws up his face. “Of course it meant something…” He says in a pained voice.

“It _can’t_ mean anything.” I correct myself. “We can’t get involved right now. It’s not fair on him.” I tell him as I rub my bump. Josh turns away and sighs heavily. “You know what we should be talking about?” He turns back to look at me. “Baby names. The list’s on the table.”

Josh glares at me before stomping over to the dining table and snatching the list. He sticks a pen in his mouth and surveys the list with a furrowed brow. After a minute, he hastily crosses a number of names off.

“All right, I’m happy with any of the ones that aren’t crossed out.” He tells me as he passes the list to me. “Pick your favorite,” he instructs me.

There were a good thirty names on my list but now only four remain: Adam, Benjamin, Caleb and Nicholas.

I pause. “Benjamin.” I confirm.

“Great. Job done.” Josh says flatly.

“Ben,” I smile. “Benjamin Noah Lyman.”

“Perfect. Now, can we talk?!” Josh says desperately.

“Josh,” I narrow my eyes.

“What?” he demands.

“This is exactly what I mean.” I point at him. “Petty squabbles about our relationship. We can’t be arguing about this once Ben’s here.”

Josh sighs exasperatedly. “We won’t have to argue once he’s here, if we figure it out now.” He stresses through gritted teeth.

I groan. “Do you have the faintest idea how a relationship works?” I ask incredulously. Josh clenches his jaw. “You think we’re just gonna decide to be together, and that’s it, it’s sorted?” I can feel tears stinging in my eyes. “You are so used to having things work out the way you want them to. And you just expect me to come along for the ride…” I trail off as thick tears start to fall down my cheeks. “You never stop to think about all the pain and hurt, Josh. You just sweep it under the rug.” I can hear Josh breathing heavily. “We can’t fall into a relationship just because we _want_ each other! That’s not a good enough foundation when there’s a child involved.”

Josh stretches his arms out and grasps the frame of the archway that leads into the narrow kitchen. His head is hanging down. “Okay,” I hear him say quietly. “I’ll drop it.”

“Okay.” I respond, the word catches in my throat as tears continue slipping down my cheeks.

**Josh:**

I have been hiding out in the study all day, avoiding Donna, and pretending to work.

Nobody is in the office today. We’re supposed to be relaxing, sleeping off our hangovers, and spending time with our families before we embark on four years of non-stop work.

Instead, I’m lying low in my windowless study – which doubles as my bedroom, thanks to an excruciatingly uncomfortable fold-out bed – and scribbling down a plan for how my parental leave will work once Ben’s here. I get six weeks and President Santos is insisting that I take the entire allotment. Something about ‘living our values’ and setting an example for fathers throughout the country. It’s great that I have a supportive boss, but I’m conscious that taking six weeks off barely two months into his Presidency is less than ideal.

Sam will take on the Chief of Staff role in my absence, with support from Lou and Amy. He is dreading it, so I’m trying to prepare him as best I can.

I’ve just now realized that I’ve been fixating so much on the West Wing will survive in my absence, that I have given zero thought to how I’m going to survive six whole weeks with Donna and a newborn and no work to distract me.

Shit.

I groan and rest my head on my desk. According to my crappy watch, it’s nearly 5pm so I’ve been hiding from Donna for a good seven hours. I shake my head, stand up and go off in search of her.

I find her busying herself in the nursery, she’s sitting cross-legged in front of the chest of drawers with a small overnight bag in front of her.

“Hey,” I say softly from the doorway.

“Hey,” she looks up at me with a blank face before continuing to fold baby clothes.

I wander into the nursery and seat myself on the rocking chair in the corner. “What are you doing?”

“Packing a hospital bag for me and the baby,” Donna replies.

“Oh yeah? You don’t think it’s a bit early for that?” I lean back and clasp my hands in my lap.

“No,” Donna tells me curtly. “You think I’ll have time to pack an overnight bag when I’m in labor?”

I bite my lip. “Fair point,” I tell her. “Do I need one?” Donna looks up at me confusedly. “A hospital bag?” I continue.

Donna shrugs. “Do you plan on staying at the hospital?” she asks in an exasperated tone.

I return her shrug before sighing deeply. “I dunno, Donna. I don’t know how any of this works.” I reply honestly.

She turns to look at me. “You should probably pack a change of clothes and a toothbrush for yourself.”

“Okay.”

I watch as Donna continues packing garments and baby things into the bag, before sitting back and looking contemplative. “Can you help me?” she asks quietly.

“Huh?”

“I can’t get up.” She explains in a small voice. I chuckle and make my way over to her, pulling her onto her feet. “It’s not funny, Josh.” She tells me sternly.

“I know.” I smile. “I’m sorry.”

Donna smooths a hand over her bump. “Can you put this by the front door?” she points to the bag. “And make sure you put your own one next to it...”

I nod and pick it up. “What else do we need to bring?” I ask as I walk down the hall.

Donna follows me. “You need to make sure his car seat is properly installed in the Secret Service’s vehicle.”

“Right,” I drop the bag and turn to her. “What else?”

“Have you got everyone’s numbers on your phone?” Donna asks.

I shrug. “Whose numbers do I need?”

“Dr Roskill, my Mom, your Mom, my sister…” she lists.

“Uh huh,” I slip my phone out of my pocket and start scrolling through the contacts. “I don’t have your sister or the doctor,” I admit as I hand Donna my phone.

Begrudgingly, she takes it from me and starts inputting the numbers. “How are you feeling?” she asks, not taking her eyes off the screen.

I glance up at her and shrug. “Fine,” I reply quietly. “The cooked breakfast helped. Thanks.”

Donna nods. “You want dinner?”

“I’m fine. I’ll sort something.” I tell her as I collapse onto the sofa.

“I’m cooking for myself anyhow…” Donna tells me as she tosses my phone back to me.

“You don’t need to look after me, Donna.”

Donna rolls her eyes. “Jesus, Josh, it’s just dinner. You pay for the food anyhow...”

I groan. “Can you stop?”

Donna whips her head around to face me. “What?” she demands, her arms folded over her bump.

“Do you really think I give a damn about who’s paying for what?” I ask her as I bring my feet up to rest on the coffee table.

“Well, I care.” Donna tells me sternly. “I’ve never been one to take handouts, and sometimes this whole setup feels really strange…”

I switch on the TV and put my hands behind my head. “You’re not taking handouts, Donna.”

“I’m living here for free. You pay for all the utilities and groceries. Hell, Josh, you just bought me a brand-new car!” Donna snaps.

I shrug. “It doesn’t matter.”

“But it _does_ matter!” Donna insists.

I groan. “Why?” I ask as I switch off the TV. “Neither of us intended to get into this fucking mess, okay?! You weren’t setup for a baby and I had the means to set you up…” Donna shakes her head at me, her top lip curled up with rage. “To set _us_ up.” I clarify. “Come sit down.” I urge her and she reluctantly walks towards to the couch.

“I just feel like some gold-digger who is mooching off of you,” she tells me quietly as she sits.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If you were a gold-digger you would’ve married me by now.” I smirk at her.

Donna ignores me. “I want to have a job again.”

I glance down at her belly and smile. “Okay, but I think it may be a couple months before you’re ready for an office…”

She shoots me a look. “You know what I mean, Josh. I want a purpose that isn’t related to this baby. I want to challenged again…”

I nod slowly. “Donna, you can do whatever you want. You’re not beholden to me…”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I want. Part of me wants to get a fantastic job, part of me wants to go back to school, part of me wants to move to the suburbs and have five kids…”

I chuckle at her last point. “Five?” I grin but Donna merely shrugs at me. “Look, you don’t need to figure it out right now. We’ve got a baby coming in like a month and that’s gonna keep us both pretty busy for a while. You can decide on world domination or whatever it is you want after that…”

Donna sighs and looks away. “I didn’t think it would be this difficult,” she begins. “Living with you.”

I’m a little taken aback. “I’m difficult?”

“No. I just mean…” Donna shakes her head. “I don’t know…” she trails off before looking up at me. “That woman in the paper, she was so beautiful. Under different circumstances, you could’ve…y’know?” I gulp and look away. “I know I don’t have a right to be jealous or anything…”

“Donna…” I say quietly.

“And I should never have kissed you back last night. It’s not fair for me to act like I have a claim to you. It’s not fair to send you mixed messages…” Donna rests her hand under her chin. “This is so fucked up.”

I can feel my face contorting. “I miss you,” I tell her quietly, my eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Like that.” Donna doesn’t say anything. “I miss us being together in that way…” I continue and I turn to look at her.

Donna shakes her head. “Sex in chain hotels on the campaign trail…” she rolls her eyes.

“No. I miss waking up with you asleep next to me.” I clarify.

Donna pauses for moment then shrugs. “I think it was exciting because we had all this pent-up anger towards one another, and we were on opposing campaigns, sneaking around…”

I shake my head. “That’s not why…” Donna can’t meet my gaze. “I tried to tell you how I felt,” I continue. “That first night in New Hampshire.” I see Donna tense up, but I continue anyway. “I realized when we were in Germany, but I didn’t have the balls to tell you then. And when we were together, I guess I just thought you knew…” I shake my head. “Or, else I still didn’t have the balls to tell you…”

Donna reaches over and rubs my hand gently. “Josh. Let’s not.” She tells me in a pained voice.

“You know I love you.” I whisper, turning to look her in the eye.

“Of course. And I love you too.” Donna assures me.

“No, Donna.” I clench my jaw. “I don’t just _love_ you…”

“Josh,” she rubs my hand again. “Let’s not.” She stands up and walks towards the kitchen. “I’m going to make lasagna for dinner.” She announces.

I’m left on the sofa with my head hanging in my hands.


	13. Chapter 13

_15 February 2007_

**Josh:**

“Josh, wake up.”

I groan and pry my eyes open.

Carol grimaces as she looks me over. “Were you here all night?” she asks as she strides over to the window to open the drapes.

“Uh huh,” I rub my eyes wearily and groan as I sit up.

“Again?” Carol raises her eyebrows.

“President and I were with the Joint Chiefs until 3am…” I yawn.

“Jeez, some Valentine’s day…”

“Huh?”

“It was Valentine’s yesterday.” Carol explains, she crosses her arms and looks me over once more. “You look like crap.”

“What’s the time?”

“Six-thirty.” Carol replies. “You’ve got Senior Staff in an hour. You might like to consider showering before heading into the Oval…”

I glare at her as she walks out. “Any messages?”

“Uh huh,” Carol shouts in response.

“Would you like to give them to me?” I grumble as I follow her out to her desk.

Carol rolls her eyes and picks up a notebook. “Senator Cartwright is _again_ asking for a meeting at your earliest convenience...”

I shake my head. “Give that to Sam.”

“Okay,” Carol continues. “The Secretary of Homeland Security is on your ass about the thing…”

I roll my eyes. “Kindly remind his office I’ve already been briefed by his Director, and the President’s decision is final.”

Carol nods. “Lou wants five minutes with you ahead of Staff, and there’s a voicemail from Donna asking for you to call.”

“Donna?” My eyebrows shoot up.

Carol grins at me. “It’s okay, she’s now prefacing her messages with an assurance that she’s not in labor…”

I smirk. “Okay.”

“The rest of these aren’t urgent.” Carol assures me as she drops the notebook back on her desk.

I nod and head back into my office, closing the door behind me.

I haven’t been home in three days, and while the couch in my office is considerably less comfortable than my fold-out bed, I’m not really too bothered about it. At least I feel relatively in control of what’s happening here. At home I feel uncomfortable, like a fish out of water… Donna and I just dance around one another, exchanging pleasantries, and talking about the baby. It’s awkward and empty, and it’s been like this ever since Santos took office.

I grab my Blackberry and hit speed dial ‘1’. Donna answers immediately.

“Hey,” she sounds cheerful.

“Hey. What’s up?” I ask.

“Nothing, just checking in. Another all-nighter?” she asks.

“Yeah, sorry. Kazakhstan. We were in the Sit Room ‘til late. It was easier to crash here…” I explain.

“Okay,” she replies. “You need anything?”

I rub my neck. “I’m fine.” I assure her.

“You sure? Because I can drop a fresh suit in…”

I glance down at my crumpled pants and soiled shirt. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’m up.” Donna tells me.

“That would actually be great. I don’t have any clean shirts left here…”

“Okay.”

“You can just leave it at the gate.”

“I know,” she replies.

I sigh when the call ends and toss my Blackberry on my desk, leaning forward to scrub my sleepy eyes.

Dancing around one another is utterly exhausting.

**Donna:**

“Thanks for signing me in, Carol.” I smile as Carol ushers me through the familiar corridors of the West Wing.

“Anytime,” Carol grins. “It’s good to see you. You haven’t been in here yet, right?”

I shake my head. “Nope, not under Santos.” I confirm.

“It’s kind of weird seeing Josh in Leo’s office,” Carol tells me. “Prepare yourself…”

I grin. “Yeah, I bet it’s strange having all new people around too…”

Carol shrugs. “I dunno, some things don’t change. Lou is just as grumpy of a Communications Director as Toby was…”

I laugh as we approach the Chief of Staff’s office. Carol knocks loudly. “Josh, you have a visitor!” she shouts before opening the door for me.

I walk in slowly and see Josh bound to his feet, a look of surprise on his face.

“Hey!” He half-smiles at me.

“Hey,” I grin and hold out his suit, still freshly-wrapped in plastic from the dry cleaners.

“You didn’t have to come in,” he tells me as he drapes the suit over an armchair.

I shrug. “It’s okay, I’ve been up for hours.” I hold out a paper bag for him.

“What’s this?” He asks as he grabs it.

“I stopped at Starbucks. Got you coffee, and an almond croissant.”

Josh grins. “Thank you.”

I glance around his office. It’s nice, a lot tidier than his old one, but still very Josh. I notice a few items of Leo’s remain on the bookshelves and smile to myself.

“The place looks good.” I tell him.

“Yeah?” he asks with a mouthful of croissant.

I nod as I walk around to the back of desk. I spot a framed photo of the last sonogram in a prime position and can’t help but smile. “This is cute.”

“Yeah, I stole that from the nursery…” Josh admits, a grin plastered across his face. “Thanks for the suit and the breakfast, Donna.” He tells me sincerely.

I shrug. “I know how busy you are.”

“Well, it’ll be Sam’s problem before too long…” Josh smirks.

“And then it’ll be your problem all over again.” I tell him.

Josh shrugs. “Uh huh,” he takes a sip of coffee. “So, you couldn’t sleep?”

I sigh. “I’ve got this weird headache that keeps waking me up. I dunno, I thought it was a migraine starting, but it’s just coming and going…” Josh nods, a look of concern on his face. “I’m sure it’s just yet another weird hormonal pregnancy thing.” I assure him. “Anyway, I should let you get back to it. You must have Staff pretty soon…”

Josh looks at the time. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I needa head down and take a shower.”

I nod and start making my way towards the door.

“Josh.” The adjoining door to Josh’s office swings open and President Santos walks in. “Can you get State to set up a meeting up with the Five Eyes Ambassadors today? I want to make sure we’re all singing from the same songbook on Kazakhstan...” He looks up from the memo he’s reading and spots me. “Oh, hey, Donna,” he smiles.

“Mr. President,” I beam at him.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He apologies. “I didn’t realize Josh had company.”

“Donna just dropped in a fresh suit,” Josh explains.

The President raises his eyebrows and nods slowly. “Good, ‘cause the one you’re wearing could probably stand up on its own by now…”

Josh rolls his eyes. “Not all of us have the luxury of living on-site,” he grins but the President shoots him a playful look. “Sir.” Josh quickly adds.

President Santos grins. “Let’s discuss the Five Eyes thing at Staff. It’s not urgent,” he says as he makes his way back into the Oval. “Good to see you, Donna.”

“You too, Mr. President.” I smile as the door clicks shut behind him. “Never a dull moment around here,” I tell Josh.

He grins. “You miss it?” he asks.

I shrug. “Yes and no.”

Josh nods as he sees me to the door. “Thanks again, Donna.”

“Forget it,” I grin. “I’m mean, I’m gonna have you running around after me once this little guy arrives,” I pat my bump. “I’m even thinking of getting a little bell to summon you…” I joke and Josh rolls his eyes.

“T-minus 20 days…” Josh tells me.

“See ya,” I smile.

“Bye.”

As the day drags on, and a number of additional meetings are added to my calendar, I grow increasingly thankful that I’m wearing a clean suit. There’s nothing quite like sitting across from four high-ranking Ambassadors and the President of the United States to make a guy feel self-conscious.

“Well, that was certainly _eye-opening_ ,” Sam comments once the Five Eyes Ambassadors depart the Oval Office.

President Santos shoots him a look. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen,” he mutters. “We’re gonna end up engaged in a war in Kazakhstan without the support of our closest allies…”

I shrug. “I mean, you can’t blame them. In the absence of a clear exit strategy, I wouldn’t want to embroil my nation’s military either…”

The President furrows his brow. “Well, we’re already well-and-truly embroiled, Josh.”

I shake my head. “We can’t be seen to be pushing for a military solution. We need to strive for this to be resolved via multilateral channels. The Brits certainly won’t put any boots on the ground unless all non-combat alternatives have been exhausted.”

President Santos nods. “I understand that, but it seems the NSC can’t get the DoD and State to agree on the way forward.”

I nod. “I’ll call Eckman and give her the firm word. See if she can get them to pull something together for your consideration tomorrow.”

President Santos nods again and rubs his neck. “Four weeks into the job…” He chuckles.

“Oh, this is the easy stuff.” I tell him playfully.

He grins. “Where are we at with Cartwright, Sam?” He asks.

“Ah, he’s not entirely thrilled with where we’ve landed, but I think he’s willing to suck it up.”

The President frowns. “We’re gonna need him in the mid-terms. See if you can’t sweeten the deal a little further…”

Sam nods, but I shake my head. “Cartwright’s a small fish,” I tell the President. “Let’s save the overtures for when we really need them.”

“I’m not in the business of isolating my friends, Josh.” The President tells me sternly.

“It’s not isolation…” I say with a smile. “It’s friendship at a distance.”

The President rolls his eyes and is about to respond, when he’s interrupted by a ringing phone.

“You really think Cartwright will roll over?” Sam asks me quietly as the President answers the call.

“Yes, but if you’re desperate for a second opinion, send Amy his way. It won’t hurt to give him a little more attention from the West Wing…”

The President puts the phone back in the receiver. “Josh?” he calls. I turn to face him and see the color has drained from his face. “Ron Butterfield is in your office.”

“Sir?” I ask confusedly.

“Ron needs to speak to you.” President Santos continues, but my feet remain glued to the floor. “Now, Josh.” He urges.

I turn and walk towards the door that connects the Oval with my office.

I hear the dull thud of my heartbeat in my ears as I walk across the seal of the President. I hear Sam ask what’s going on. I hear the President summon Ronna into his office.

There is a pit of dread in my stomach. I have a feeling something is terribly wrong, and I am torn between the desire to continue being happily naïve or finding out exactly what’s happened.

I don’t bother closing the door behind me.

Ron is standing grimly in the center of my office, waiting for me. He stands with his feet shoulder-width apart, his hands clasped behind his back, and his posture perfect. I wonder for a moment whether he’s a former military man. You see, the thing about Ron is that he’s the kind of person that you assume has always been this way. Like, you can’t picture him ever having been a child. He’s just one of those people that you assume entered the world as a fully-formed adult, articulately giving orders and maintaining calm in a sea of chaos, right from the get-go.

It’s funny the sort of thing that goes through your head when you’re in a state of pre-shock. I realize now that I should’ve have actually been alarmed earlier. The President’s phone doesn’t just ring out of the blue. I know that.

“Mr. Lyman,” Ron’s face is serious, but fails to give much away.

“What’s going on, Ron?” I hear myself ask in a wavering tone.

“Mr. Lyman, ten minutes ago one of my agents found Miss Moss unconscious in your apartment. She’s in an ambulance en route to George Washington University Hospital. I don’t know much about her current status, but I understand the agent on the scene found her in…” Ron trails off and I see him swallow uncomfortably. “A pool of blood.” He finishes.

“What? What happened?” My voice is even shakier now and I feel like my knees might collapse beneath me. I stare at Ron in disbelief. His mouth is moving so I know he’s saying something more, but any sound is muffled, as though I’m underwater.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lyman. I don’t have much detail. I understand my agent heard a crash inside your home, and, after no response from Miss Moss, decided to make a forced entry. He found Miss Moss in the bathroom and requested immediate ambulance dispatch.”

Sam is now at my side. “I need to…” I hear my voice choking. “I need to go.”

“Of course, Mr. Lyman. We have a car waiting.” Ron directs me out of my office and we pass a pale Carol, her face etched with worry.

“Cancel his meetings,” I hear Sam instruct her, his hands are on my shoulders and he’s jostling me along.

“You need to stay with the President,” I stop walking and turn to Sam.

Sam shakes his head. “Josh,” he starts.

“Sam. Stay with the President.” I say sternly.

Sam nods solemnly. “Okay,” he agrees. He’s holding my coat, Blackberry, and wallet. He must’ve grabbed them from my office. That was practical, I muse, as he thrusts them into my hands.

“Mr. Lyman?” Ron urges and I turn to follow him towards to the portico. “Agents Merletti and Greer will escort you. An advance team are securing the hospital.” I’m breathing rapidly as we approach the black SUV and I can’t even manage to vocalize a response. Ron rests his hand on my shoulder and I move towards the vehicle. “It will be okay, Josh.” He says quietly.

One good thing about being driven everywhere by the Secret Service is that they don’t stop for red lights. I think our journey from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue to GW may have actually set a new land-speed record. Another good thing is that these guys know the exact location of every emergency room in the tri-state area, and they don’t need to worry about finding a parking space.

There’s a woman in surgical scrubs waiting at the entrance for me. “Mr. Lyman?” she asks. I simply nod in reply. “I’m Dr Matsui. Your wife is being worked on by our trauma care team.”

“Is she okay?”

Dr Matsui ushers me into the emergency department and into a small office. “She has lost a lot of blood,” she tells me as I’m directed to take a seat.

“I don’t understand…”

“We believe she is suffering from a placental abruption. That’s when the placenta detaches from the wall of the womb.” She explains. “They’re trying to stabilize your wife so they can move her to the operating room. They may need to deliver the baby.”

I shake my head. “It’s too early…”

Dr Matsui nods. “Our measurements indicate your wife was nearly full term?”

I nod. “Due date’s six March.”

Dr Matsui scribbles that down. “It’s not too early,” she assures me.

“Can I see her?” I ask agitatedly.

“I just need to ask you a few questions, Mr. Lyman.” Dr Matsui explains calmly. “Your wife was registered with…”

I cut her off. “She’s not my wife.” I tell her firmly.

Dr Matsui blushes. “Oh, sorry, my mistake. Miss Moss, was she registered with an OB/GYN?”

I nod sombrely. “Dr Roskill at Foxhall & Associates.”

Dr Matsui notes this down. “And do you know if she was being treated for any pregnancy-related health problems? Pre-eclampsia? Hypertension? Gestational diabetes?”

I shake my head firmly. “No, she was fine.”

“It was progressing as a normal pregnancy?” Dr Matsui confirms.

“Yes,” I agree. “I mean, um…” I lean forward and run my fingers through my hair. “She had low-iron levels but she was taking supplements.”

Dr Matsui nods and she stands up. “Okay. I’m going to seek an update on Miss Moss’s condition from the attending physician.”

“I want to see her.” I plead.

“Wait here.” Dr Matsui instructs as she leaves the room. I hear as she instructs a staff member to call Dr Roskill before making her way into the exam room.

A few minutes pass but they feel like decades. My stomach is turning inside and out, and my heart rate refuses to slow.

“Mr. Lyman?” A voice asks, I glance up and see a doctor covered in blood standing before me. “I’m Eli Fischer, I’ve been treating Miss Moss.” Dr Fischer’s gloved hands are covered with a towel and his surgical mask is pulled down below his chin. Beads of sweat pool on his forehead.

“How is she?”

“We need your permission to perform an emergency caesarean to deliver the baby.” He tells me matter-of-factly.

“What’s going on?”

“The placental abruption has caused a massive amount of bleeding. We need to deliver the baby as soon as possible.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Was Miss Moss experiencing any discomfort these past few days?”

I shake my head. “I mean, she’s eight months pregnant, she’s always uncomfortable...”

Dr Fischer purses his lips. “Any change at all in her condition?” he presses.

My eyes dart back and forth. “I don’t know. I’ve been at work. I haven’t seen her…” I gulp. “She had a headache this morning…” I squeeze my eyes shut. “She couldn’t sleep.” I expand.

“She was vomiting.” A voice from outside the room says.

All eyes dart to where the Secret Service agent stands in the doorway. “Yesterday, on the evening shift. She was really nauseous and she vomited a couple of times…” Logan trails off.

“Eclampsia?” Dr Matsui glances at Dr Fischer.

“That would explain the seizing.” Dr Fischer agrees. “Check for protein in the urine and tell the OR team we’re bringing her straight up.”

Dr Matsui nods and runs back towards the exam room.

“Seizing?” I ask in a small voice.

Dr Fischer nods. “She was convulsing when she came in. We think that’s what may have caused her initial fall.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Mr. Lyman.” Dr Fischer says sternly. “We need your permission to deliver the baby.”

“Yes. Do what you need to do.” Dr Fischer nods and turns to leave. “Wait. Can I see her?” I plead.

He pauses, then gestures for me to follow him. “Just him. You guys wait outside.” He instructs the agents. “She’s drifting in and out of consciousness. She may be a little disoriented.” Dr Fischer warns me. I nod as I follow him into the exam room.

It’s packed with emergency staff, shoulder-to-shoulder and shouting orders at one another. The floor is crimson with blood. Large clots lay atop discarded white gauze.

“The father’s here.” I hear Dr Fischer announce as he directs me towards Donna.

Her face is grey and she looks utterly terrified. “Josh?” she asks, her voice on the verge of tears.

I reach out and gently stroke her forehead. “It’s okay.” I tell her as calmly as I can. “They’re gonna deliver the baby.”

“No.” Donna shakes her head furiously. “It’s too early.”

“It’s not,” I assure her. “He’s tough. He’ll be okay.”

Thick tears are running off Donna’s face onto the exam table sheets. “Josh. I’m scared.” She sobs, her breaths thick and fast.

“It’s okay,” I wipe her tears with my thumb. “You’re both gonna be fine.”

Donna screws up her face and her breath hitches.

“Protein creatinine ratio is at point seven milligrams per deciliter!” Someone shouts.

“Alright,” Dr Fischer looks at me. “We need to get her up.”

“I love you.” Donna tells me as her tears continue falling.

“I love you too.” I whisper, my hand still resting on her head.

“Now, Mr. Lyman.” Dr Fischer says sternly. “Move!”

I step back as the gurney starts to be pushed from the room. Donna’s eyes are searching for me.

“Can I come?” I ask Dr Fischer.

He pauses, then sighs “Get him in a gown and bring him up.” He instructs a nurse before running after the gurney.

I feel someone take my arm and direct me towards a cubicle. “Sir?” they ask. “You need to put this on.” I nod, my eyes still fixed on the gurney that is disappearing down the corridor. “Sir, do you want us to call anybody for you?” they ask as they hold out a pastel yellow gown for me.

“Her parents,” I hear myself say. “They’re in Wisconsin.”

“Okay,” the nurse replies.

“If you call my office, my assistant will book them on the next flight.” I continue and the nurse nods again. “And my Mom,” I hear my voice catch.

“We can get you those numbers.” I hear an agent tell the nurse.

My eyes shoot towards Logan’s. “She was vomiting?” I ask and he nods. “She didn’t say anything…”

“Sir,” the nurse holds out a pair of gloves expectantly and I hastily put them on. “Did they tell you what to expect?” she asks as she escorts me down the corridor. I shake my head. “They’re going to put her under,” the nurse explains. “There’s not enough time for an epidural, and she’s lost too much blood.”

“Okay,” I respond bleakly.

“Do you get queasy?” I shrug and nurse’s brow furrows. “There will be seat next to her. By her head. Use it.” The nurse instructs sternly. “Don’t go fainting and making a scene.”

I nod fervently as we step into the elevator. It’s the same one that Donna was just in. I can tell by the dark blood pooled on the floor.

If I thought the exam room in the emergency department was packed, this is a whole new level. There must be about twenty surgical staff in here.

There’s also a small bassinet in the corner of the operating theatre with a bright heat lamp on. I haven’t really stopped to process the fact that my son is about to be born. I’m still struggling to comprehend that less than thirty minutes ago I was standing in the Oval Office discussing Kazakhstan.

“She’s out.” I hear the anesthesiologist tell the surgeon.

“Mr. Lyman,” the nurse directs me to a stool beside Donna. Her eyelids are taped down and there’s a tube in her mouth.

“Ten blade,” the surgeon instructs. There’s a curtain hanging over her abdomen, I assume it’s for my benefit, to stop me from catching a glimpse of the real gnarly stuff.

I squeeze my eyes tightly shut as I hear the operation begin.

Aside from the ongoing beeping of monitors, the room is silent. It’s as though everyone is collectively holding their breath. I try to take my mind off of the fact that they’re slicing into Donna’s bump – the bump that I’ve become so fond of – and instead focus on her face.

I feel a pang of guilt as I remember that aside from five minutes this morning, I haven’t laid eyes on her in about four days. It’s no wonder a Secret Service agent was better equipped to answer the doctor’s questions…

There’s a tiny scar on her forehead from Gaza. It’s healed up nicely and you can barely see that it’s there usually, but under the glare of the surgical lights, it’s unmistakable. I gulp. This isn’t the first time I’ve watched over her in an operating room. No, this is an all-too familiar agony. At least today we said we loved one another. I was too much of a coward to tell her that in Germany…

“I need suction!” The surgeon yells, his voice agitated.

“Hang another liter!” A different voice instructs, and I watch as a nurse rushes forward with a bag of blood.

“Blood pressure is spiking.” The anesthesiologist announces, as all sorts of alarms and machines start sounding in the operating theatre.

“Baby’s heartrate is elevated.”

I gulp and continue looking at Donna, my foot nervously tapping the floor as the surgical staff rush – almost balletically – around the operating theatre.

“It’s pouring out faster than we can get it in…” A strained voice warns.

“Baby is in distress.”

“I need more suction!” The surgeon snaps.

The beeping of the monitors is more frantic now.

“You need to get that baby out,” one of the doctors standing beside the empty bassinet insists. “Now!”

I keep my gaze on Donna and try to distract myself.

A few weeks ago – before we took office, before we kissed, before we fought – I had come home to find her dancing in her pajamas in the living room. She had the stereo pumping so loud that she didn’t even notice me walk in. I’d stood back, my arms crossed against my chest, watching as she sang along with Fleetwood Mac: “You can go your own wayyyy, go your own wayyyy!” She burst into a fit of laughter the second she saw me, a wide smile stretching across her face, “Come on!” She’d insisted grabbing my hands, “ _Rumors_ is his favorite album!” She claimed, patting her bump. And, while I refused at first, she soon had me boogying to the dulcet tones of Stevie Nicks alongside her, before we collapsed into a heap of giggles on the sofa. I thoroughly recommend it as a stress relieving tool to anyone who has spent a day going toe-to-toe with Barry Goodwin on cabinet appointments…

“Baby’s out! Someone cut the damn cord!” I hear the surgeon yell.

My head instantly jerks up and I see a tiny, unmoving figure grasped in the surgeon’s hands. He is absolutely covered in blood.

The staff in the operating theatre immediately leap into action, grabbing the baby and placing him on the bassinet, roughly wiping the blood off him and prizing his mouth open in order to suction out any fluid.

“C’mon little guy…” a doctor massages his chest firmly. “Give us a cry.”

With some of the blood wiped off, I can see that my son’s skin is grey. I gulp as I watch the doctors continue to scramble around him.

“Hang another liter!” The surgeon working on Donna yells. “I need some hands in here. Hold this retractor!”

My own hands are shaking as my eyes dart between Donna and my infant son.

I hear a tiny noise from the bassinet. It’s just barely a cry, but the staff hovering over the baby all breathe a sigh of relief.

“Tell the NICU we’re on our way down!” Someone yells as they start to wheel the bassinet out of the operating theatre. My son’s cries are growing stronger now.

“Where are you taking him?” I demand.

“Mr. Lyman, go with your son.” The surgeon working on Donna instructs me sternly.

I shake my head stubbornly.

“She’s bradying down!” The anesthesiologist yells.

“Go with your son!” The surgeon yells again, his gaze has returned to Donna and his hands are working swiftly.

“What’s happening?!” I shout.

“Someone get him out!” The surgeon yells and I feel a pair of hands on my shoulders steer me towards the door.

“I can’t leave her,” I plead. “Please.”

“He needs to go with his son,” a masked nurse tells the two agents stationed outside the operating theatre.

They nod and usher me along the corridor. “Bulldog is on the move.”

I’ve never seen a baby in an incubator before.

I also haven’t seen too many babies before. Not in person.

He looks so tiny in there. He’s swaddled in a blanket, but the tips of his little fingers are peeking out. He has a little blue hat on. Toby had told me that babies come with hats.

Truth be told, he’s looking pretty content given all that he’s just been through. I’m staring at him intently, taking in his little face and watching closely as he wriggles around, a slight grimace on his face.

Please god, don’t let this kid grow up without a mother. I can’t do this without her. I can’t do anything without her…

“You can touch him,” one of nurses smiles at me.

“He’s so small.” I reply as I guide my hand into the incubator and tentatively touch his head.

“Believe it or not, he’s one of the biggest babies in here.” The nurse tells me. “Five pounds, ten ounces is a very healthy weight.”

I smile weakly. “Any news?” My eyes still fixed on my son.

“Nothing yet,” she replies. “Do you have a name?”

I nod slowly. “Ben.”

The nurse beams at me. “That’s nice.”

“Benjamin Noah.” I expand.

She grins. “Okay, let’s get a label made for him then, huh?” She makes her way back to nurse’s station.

“Hi Ben,” I whisper into the incubator. “I’m your Daddy.” Ben’s eyes remain squeezed tightly shut.

I’m startled by the ringing of my Blackberry and promptly retrieve it from my pocket. “Hello?”

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Val. What’s going on?” Val, or Valentina, is Donna’s older sister. “Mom called me on her way to the airport. She said Donna was going into surgery!”

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “You have a healthy nephew.”

“Oh my god!” She exclaims. “He’s okay?”

“Yeah,” I confirm. “He’s in the NICU as a precaution, but they think he’s fine.”

“And Donna?”

“She’s still in surgery. I don’t know anything right now…”

“Oh god,” Val sighs. “What happened?”

“I don’t really know. The placenta separated from the womb, there was bleeding…” I explain.

“Okay.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I hear about Donna.” I assure her. “You said your folks are on a flight?”

“Yeah, they said someone at the White House sorted it. They’re in the air right now.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll call me?” Val asks again.

“Yeah, of course.” I tell her. “Oh, and his name is Ben…” I smile.

“Ben.” Val says sweetly. “Okay. Thanks Josh, take care.”

“Bye.” I end the call and sit back a little as I study Ben. His eyes are open now and he’s looking up at me. “Hey buddy,” I say softly. “Did I wake you?” His dark eyes widen. “That was your Aunt checking in on you.” I tell him. “Your grandparents are coming out to see you.”

Ben keeps his eyes fixed on mine.

“Mr. Lyman?” A nurse calls. “A Dr Roskill is here to see you. You’ll have to go to her I’m afraid. Non-accredited physicians can’t enter the NICU during lockdown.” I nod and tentatively make my way towards the NICU exit, uncertain about leaving Ben on his own. “He’ll be fine,” the nurse smiles, clearly noticing my apprehension.

Dr Roskill looks anxious and takes a deep breath when she sees me approaching. “Is she out of surgery?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I don’t have much of an update, sorry.” She’s holding a chart in her hands.

I bite my lip and turn away. “What in the hell happened?” I ask exasperatedly,

“It was eclampsia,” Dr Roskill tells me. “It’s very rare for it to come on at this late stage in pregnancy, especially without any symptoms of pre-eclampsia.”

I look at her incredulously. “I don’t know what the hell that is.”

She’s flustered now. “High-blood pressure and extra protein in the urine that lead to seizures,” Dr Roskill explains. “We’re unsure if the placental abruption occurred as a result of Donna falling during a seizure or whether it was brought on by the eclampsia itself.”

I run my hands through my hair and start pacing. “Is she going to be okay?” I ask desperately.

“She’s lost a lot of blood, Josh.” Dr Roskill says quietly. “But she has a good team working on her.”

“It’s been hours,” I stress.

Dr Roskill nods. “They’ll have news soon,” she assures me. “I understand the baby is doing well?” I nod solemnly and Dr Roskill smiles at me. “Try to stay calm,” she urges me.

I look down and sigh. “Thanks for coming in,” I tell her sincerely.

I turn to walk back into the NICU but one of the agents stops me. “The White House is asking for an update,” he explains sympathetically.

I sigh and pull my phone out of my pocket. “Sam?” I say as I walk into the NICU.

“Josh? You okay?”

“Yeah. Donna’s in surgery…” I tell him.

“The baby?” he asks worriedly.

“Five pounds, ten ounces.” I announce. “Benjamin Noah Lyman.”

“Congratulations,” Sam says warmly. “I’ll tell the President.”

“Thanks.” I take my seat next to Ben’s incubator. “He’s incredible,” I tell Sam. “They think he’s fine, but he’s still in the NICU right now.”

“That’s good,” Sam sounds hopeful. “What’s happening with Donna?”

I hear myself exhale. “I don’t know…” I tell him honestly before clearing my throat. “There’s a lot of bleeding.”

“Josh…” Sam says quietly.

I ignore him. “Donna’s parents are on their way out. Can you make sure there’s a car waiting?”

“Yeah, Carol and I will sort it.”

“And can you call my Mom?”

“Carol’s spoken to her already, but I’ll update her. She’s trying to get on a flight.”

“Okay.”

“Anyone else?”

I shrug. “Whoever you want.” I tell him.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to feed him?” A nurse asks.

“Um…” I look up at her uncomfortably.

“First time?” she asks, a grin on her face.

“Yeah,” I tell her sheepishly.

“Hold this,” she passes me a bottle and then opens the side of the incubator, gently lifting Ben. “You just need to support his head.” She tells me as she bends down to place him in my arms.

I stare down at him in wonder.

“Now, let’s see how he goes with the bottle…” the nurse encourages me to lift it to his mouth. Ben latches on almost immediately. “Oh, he’s a pro!” she exclaims as Ben greedily sucks away. “You okay?” she asks. I nod fervently, but bite my lip. The nurse smiles sympathetically. “Okay. I’ll leave you to it. Just holler if you need me.”

Ben lifts one hand out from under his blanket and manages to grasp my pinky finger. “You think you’re pretty clever, huh?” I ask as I smile down at him. His dark eyes peer back at me, seemingly intrigued.

After ten minutes of fairly incessant chugging, Ben pulls back and whimpers a little. I put the bottle down and consider my next move. “You need to be burped?” I ask Ben, before Iifting him to my shoulder and gently rubbing his back. He makes cooing noises against my hair and one of his flailing hands latches onto my tie. I smile as he lets out a little cough, and then I settle him back in my arms. A little dried milk is crusting on his upper lip, and his mouth is curved up in a small smile.

“Mr. Lyman?” A voice startles me and I look up to see the wearied surgeon approaching.

“Is she okay?” I ask agitatedly.

“She’s stable and out of surgery,” he tells me with a small smile. I breathe a sigh of relief. “They’re about to transfer her to ICU.” He pauses. “It was a long surgery, and Donna lost a lot of blood…”

I nod intently as I cradle Ben in my arms. “She’s gonna be okay though, right?”

“She has been through a lot,” the surgeon continues. “But we think she’s out of the woods…” I nod and feel tears pricking in my eyes. “Mr. Lyman, we were unable to stop the bleeding in the uterus,” he tells me with a furrowed brow. “We had to perform a hysterectomy.” I look at him quizzically. “We had to remove Donna’s womb.” He explains.

“Oh.” I tighten my grasp on Ben.

“I’m sorry,” he continues. “I understand this was Donna’s first pregnancy?” I nod numbly and the surgeon sighs. “Do you have any questions, Mr. Lyman?”

“Can I see her?”

“Once she’s set up in the ICU,” he confirms.

I nod slowly. “Thank you,” I tell him sincerely. He smiles briefly and then walks away.

I feel tears pooling in my eyes and I blink desperately in an effort to make them disappear. Having more kids wasn’t even a thought that had crossed my mind. Hell, up until a couple months ago, having _a_ kid hadn’t even crossed my mind. But, suddenly, without the option to give Ben a brother or sister, I feel incredibly sad, and I feel myself tremble as little as I consider having to break this news to Donna.

Why am I so heartbroken that a dream I only just realized I had, isn’t going to come to fruition? I lift a hand to my cheek and wipe away a tear. Ben is staring up at me again. “Don’t worry, buddy. Daddy’s okay,” I assure him in a strained voice.

Donna looks so small tucked up in her hospital bed. There are countless wires connected to her, and numerous bags of fluids hooked into her veins. Her face is grey and her usually vibrant blonde hair lays lifeless against the stark white hospital sheets.

She hasn’t woken up yet, and I can tell that the doctors are getting concerned. I just got off the phone to Val, but I didn’t give her an in-depth update, just the headlines: Donna’s out of surgery, the doctors think she’s going to be fine.

Ben’s not allowed out of the NICU, but the nurses encouraged me to sit with Donna for a while. It didn’t feel right leaving him, but I needed to see her. And I want to be here when she wakes up. I gulp as a disturbing thought crosses my mind. _If_ she wakes up.

I’ve been sprawled out on an armchair beside her bed for the last few hours. On the floor beside me is the hospital bag Donna so pedantically prepped for her and Ben, as well as a duffel that I threw a few things of my own into. Carol picked them up from my place and dropped them into reception. When the nurse brought them into Donna’s room, she suggested I go take a shower and change into some fresh clothes, but I can’t bring myself to leave Donna’s side.

Every half hour or so the doctor pokes his head in the room and glances at the nurse, who subtly shakes her head, and the doctor’s face falls.

Something is wrong.

Outside Donna’s room I hear a bit of a disturbance.

“I shouldn’t have to show any goddamn ID to go into my daughter’s hospital room!” A man shouts.

Fuck. I sigh and force myself over to the door.

“Josh!” Donna’s mother sees me and rushes over, enveloping me in a warm hug.

“Hey Gabby,” I squeeze her tightly. “Mr. Moss,” I outstretch my hand to Donna’s father, he looks at me frustratedly before accepting it.

“Joshua,” he says sternly.

“Everything okay here?” I ask the agents at the door.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Lyman,” one nods as they hold the door open for Donna’s parents.

“Oh god!” Gabby cries as she spots Donna. James places his hand on her shoulder and takes a deep breath.

“They said she’s out of the woods,” I tell them, standing back to give them some room.

“Yeah?” Gabby looks at me as she strokes Donna’s hair.

“They’re just waiting for her to wake up.” I explain.

James bites his lip and I watch as he slips his hand into Donna’s.

“And the baby?” Gabby asks. “Val said he was in the NICU.”

I nod. “Yeah, he’s fine though. They want to monitor him for a while longer, but he’s breathing on his own and taking the bottle.” I explain.

“Okay,” Gabby forces a smile.

“Val said you named him Benjamin?” James turns his attention to me.

I nod. “Yeah, Ben,” I reach down for my Blackberry. “I’ve got a couple photos…” I tell them. Gabby bounds over excitedly and I scroll through the photos I’ve taken. “Sorry, they’re not better quality…” I apologize as Gabby and James peer down at the small screen.

“Oh, he’s absolutely precious!” Gabby exclaims.

“Yeah,” I grin. James pats my shoulder encouragingly and makes his way back over to Donna. “Was the flight okay?” I ask.

Gabby nods adamantly. “Everything was fine,” she smiles. “Thank you for organizing it all.”

I shrug. “I didn’t really do anything…”

“Can we see him?” she asks. “Ben?”

“Yeah, of course.” I bite my lip as I debate whether to escort them up or stay with Donna. “Ah,” I look to the nurse for guidance.

“We can get somebody to take you guys,” she smiles. “If you’d prefer to stay here, Mr. Lyman.”

James quirks his head at me. “Do you mind?” I ask.

Gabby shakes her head. “No, honey. You stay here, we won’t be long.”

James gently takes his hand from Donna’s and starts to follow Gabby out. “You okay, son?” he asks quietly as he passes me.

I nod slowly. “Yeah,” James narrows his gaze. “Overwhelmed.” I admit.

James gives me a half-smile. “She’ll be okay,” he assures me. “She’s a fighter.”

That much I know.

_16 February 2007_

Donna’s mother is forcing me to eat. She brought me a yoghurt, banana and stale pastry from the hospital cafeteria and is now eyeing me concernedly as I pick at them.

Donna still hasn’t woken up, and without her to fret over, Gabby is focusing on me. Don’t get me wrong, Gabby’s great. She is incredibly kind, but she’s also _insanely_ over-bearing.

I haven’t slept. I camped out on a recliner in Donna’s room last night, but I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes.

And, as you know, I was already running on fumes…

While Donna hasn’t fully woken up, she has made some slight sounds and movement, mainly indicative of her discomfort. So the nurses have been pushing pain relief when she stirs, and assuring me it’s okay that she’s not awake yet, because she needs time to heal.

I get it, I do. But until I see her eyes looking back at mine, I’m not sure I can properly function.

Gabby and James forced me to visit the NICU a couple of hours ago. Donna had just been given another dose of morphine, so I was relatively sure she wouldn’t wake up. Still, after just twenty minutes – and one bottle – with Ben, I was back.

Ben’s doing great. This afternoon they will transfer him from the NICU to the nursery. One of the morning nurses – probably unaware of Donna’s condition – cheerily assured me that “He’ll be home before you know it!” So now I’m driving myself sick with worry that they’re going to discharge Ben before Donna. They can’t send him home if it’s only me there. I have no idea how to look after him. I need Donna…

“Joshua, honey, you need to eat.” Gabby is looking at me pointedly.

I nod and give her a half-smile. “Yeah,” I look down at the tray and swallow uncomfortably. “Thanks for picking this up.” I tell her.

“There’s not much down there, I’m afraid.” Gabby stands up and walks over to the window. “This is the same hospital you were in, right?” She asks, her arms folded. I quirk my head towards her and give her a strange look. “After the shooting…” Gabby expands.

James peers overtop of the newspaper he is reading and clears his throat.

“Ah, yeah,” I confirm, suddenly taking a newfound interest in the bruised banana in front of me.

Gabby nods. “I thought so,” she continues. “Gosh, Donna spent some hours here after that…”

James narrows his eyes. “I’m sure Josh doesn’t want to talk about that, Gabriella.”

Gabby ignores him. “We couldn’t get hold of her for weeks,” she tells me. “It seemed she was at the hospital twenty-four hours a day, and then once you went home, she went with you…”

I nod slowly, “Yeah, she was a big help to me.”

Gabby smiles. “Well, you more than repaid the favour after that terrible business in Gaza.”

I feel my jaw clench and a bite of banana gets stuck in my throat. I force it down with an agonising swallow.

James jumps to his feet. “Right, Gabby, why don’t we go down and check in on that grandson of ours? He must be due for another bottle by about now…” James bounds over and clasps Gabby by the shoulders, steering her towards the door.

“Okay,” Gabby relents. “We won’t be long, Joshua.”

“Oh, take your time!” I say with false enthusiasm.

When they disappear into the hallway, I throw my half eaten banana onto the tray and sigh. A nurse coming in to check Donna’s vitals catches me and gives me a sly smile. “Mothers-in-law are hard work…” she says.

“Mmmhmm.”

“You need anything?” she asks and I shake my head. “You sure?”

I ignore her. “How’s she doing?”

The nurse looks down at the chart. “Hard to say…” she replies. “It’s been over twelve hours since the surgery. We’d expect her to be awake by now.”

“Yeah,” I rub my neck and stand up, inching closer to Donna.

“I hear your baby is a pretty cute one.” The nurse tells me.

I grin. “Yeah, he’s alright.”

“They’re moving him out of the NICU today?”

“Uh huh.” I furrow my brow. “Does that mean he can come in here?” I ask.

The nurse bites her lip. “Not typically…” she confesses. “We’re not really supposed to have more than one visitor at a time in the ICU…”

“So, you guys are already bending the rules?”

“Yeah, well, special circumstances…” she tells me as she casts her eye to the corridor where two agents remain stationed. Another two are standing guard outside the NICU.

I guess there are some perks to this gig after all…

“Joshua?” A voice in the doorway asks.

“Mom?” I say quietly.

She smiles warmly as she walks towards me and wraps me in a big hug. I hear myself start sobbing and am completely taken aback.

“Oh sweetheart,” Mom coos lovingly as she pats head gently. “It’s okay.”

Tears won’t stop spilling from my eyes and I can’t seem to control the guttural sobs that wretch from my body. There’s a nurse in the room and I’m sure the agents outside can hear all of this, but I can’t myself. There’s just something about seeing my Mom that makes me come undone.

“Thanks for being here.” I manage to tell her as my weeping begins to subside.

Mom pulls back a little and reaches up to grab me by the chin. “Of course, Joshua.” She tells me sincerely, before retrieving a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbing my face. I release her and turn away, taking a deep breath before placing my hands on the windowsill and sighing.

“Oh, my poor dear,” Mom is standing at Donna’s bedside. “She has been through so much…”

“She hasn’t woken up yet.” I tell Mom quietly.

Mom nods and I watch as she gently caresses Donna’s hand. “She will, Joshua.” I sigh again. “You look like hell,” she tells me bluntly. “Have you eaten?”

I look down and shrug. “Donna’s Mom got me some stuff from the cafeteria…” I explain.

Mom spots the bags beside my chair. “You have a change of clothes?” she asks, and I nod slowly, sensing she has an ulterior motive. “Go shower,” she instructs me.

“Mom…” I groan.

“No arguments, please.” Mom says sternly.

I begrudgingly pick up my bag. “Donna’s folks are down with Ben,” I tell her. “They’re moving him out of the NICU this afternoon.”

Mom beams. “That’s fantastic!” she tells me. “Now, off you go, you can tell me all about my amazing grandson when you’re done.”

I have to admit that showering, brushing my teeth, and putting on fresh set of clothes have made me feel a lot better. I guess mothers really do know best…

It’s a great relief to be out of suit pants and to be wearing a sweater instead of a shirt and tie.

As I head down the corridor – trailed by my detail – I can hear laughter coming from Donna’s room. I pick up my pace and curse myself for ever leaving her side.

But when I get there, I find she’s still asleep. The only thing that’s changed is that Donna’s parents appear to have met my mother, and by all accounts they’re getting on incredibly well.

“Hey,” I announce my presence and look at them quizzically.

“Joshua,” Mom says warmly. “Don’t you feel better now?”

“Uh huh…” I fold my arms and furrow my brow. “I see you met James and Gabby.”

“I certainly have!” Mom replies enthusiastically. “And look, they have photos of Ben!”

James holds up a digital camera. “We couldn’t resist,” he smiles.

“He’s feeding so well, Josh!” Gabby tells me excitedly before turning to my Mom. “They want to give him a bath before they transfer him to the nursery.”

Mom practically squeals. “Oh my goodness, we cannot miss that!” She turns to look at me but my gaze has shifted to Donna, and my brow is furrowed. “Joshua?”

“Uh huh,” I reply, not taking my eyes off Donna.

“You’ve showered,” she announces. “Now eat something.”

“I’m fine,” I tell her as I claim the seat nearest to Donna.

“He barely touched his breakfast…” I hear Gabby mutter to my Mom.

“You know, he was like this when he was little too…” Mom sighs. “He’d be so preoccupied with something or the other that he’d forget to eat.”

Gabby rolls her eyes.

“I’m right here, you guys…” I tell them, but they ignore me and strike up another conversation.

James walks towards me with his camera. “Take a look at these,” he tells me as he starts scrolling through a series of photos.

“These are great,” I grin. “Thanks.”

“Oh, just try and stop us,” James smirks. “Your Mom thinks he looks just like you did as a baby.”

“Really?” I peer closely at one of the photos. “Poor kid…” I grin.

“I can see Joanie in him too, Joshua.” Mom says suddenly. I gulp and sit back in my seat.

“Joanie?” Gabby asks.

“Josh’s older sister,” Mom explains. “We lost her when she was twelve.”

“I’m so sorry,” Gabby tells her and I see her wrap an arm around Mom.

I feel James stiffen a little next to me. “Well, he doesn’t look a scrap like Donna did as a baby,” he says, attempting to break the tension.

“Oh, Sarah, she was so pale…and her hair – well, it was barely there – but what she did have was absolutely white as snow!” Gabby says enthusiastically, a wide smile on her face.

Mom laughs. “Joshua was the exact opposite! He came out with a full head of dark-dark curls,” she smiles at me. “He was such a serious-looking baby too, Noah used to call him ‘Cronkite’ – reckoned he’d make a perfect newscaster.”

“Noah? Ben’s named after your father?” James asks me.

I nod and smile at him. “Yeah.”

“That’s lovely.” James grins at me.

“It is,” I hear Mom agree. “He would have been so touched, Joshua.” I can’t meet her eyes so I just shrug and turn my attention back to the camera. “The next one will have to be James.” Mom announces, and the three of them start chuckling.

I bite my lip and look up at them. “They, um,” I pause and shut my eyes. “The bleeding was so bad that they had to remove Donna’s uterus…” I trail off.

There’s stunned silence in the room for a while as they process the announcement.

“Well, all the more reason to be thankful for little Ben…” Gabby says quietly before standing up abruptly. “Excuse me.” She says as she makes her way out of the room, clearly on the verge of tears. James follows her, his own face lined with concern.

I lean forward and drop my head into my hands.

“I’m sorry, Joshua.” Mom tells me.

“Don’t.” I mutter, unable to look her in the eye.


	14. Chapter 14

_16 February 2007_

**Donna:**

It’s really strange waking up from a general anaesthetic. It’s not at all like waking up from sleeping. You don’t dream. One second you’re in an operating theatre, about to be put to sleep, and the next you’re in a hospital room. It feels as if no time at all has passed. Like you’ve blinked but somehow you’re now in a completely different time and place.

I’m not entirely sure how I wound up in the hospital in the first place. I remember feeling woozy in Josh’s bathroom. Then I was in the emergency room, but none of the words they were saying made any sense. Then, Josh was there. He told me they were going to deliver the baby. He told me I was going to be okay. I told him I loved him and he said it back. Then he was gone and I was in the operating theatre, asking for him, instead of counting backwards from ten like the doctor told me to.

I can see him now though. He’s sitting in a chair beside my hospital bed, bathed in the soft afternoon light that’s streaking in through the window. His elbow is leaning on the arm of the chair and his head is resting in his hand. He looks tired, but I can tell he’s fighting the urge to sleep.

“Josh?” I attempt to say, but my voice fails me and barely any sound comes out.

There’s some movement to the left of me and suddenly a woman’s face comes into view. “Hey,” they smile. “Welcome back.” I think they must be a nurse.

I try to ask about the baby, but again no sounds comes out.

“Shhh.” They urge me. “Don’t try to speak just yet.”

“Donna?” Josh is beside me, his face wracked with concern.

I smile at him and see tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “You’re okay.” He says reassuringly. I’m not sure whether his words are intended for me or him.

“I’m just going to get the doctor.” The nurse announces as she steps out.

I feel Josh take my hand and I look up at him worriedly. “He’s fine.” Josh assures me. “The baby’s fine.” He smiles and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“It’s okay, don’t cry,” Josh tells me as he reaches up to wipe some tears from my eyes. I want to be able to tell him to take his own advice. “He’s so perfect, Donna.” Josh continues. “He’s eating, and he’s so alert. Your parents are down there with him right now. My Mom too,” he tells me as he clasps my hand between both of his. “They’re giving him his first bath.” Josh grins before fumbling in his pocket. “I’ve got photos,” he explains as he places his Blackberry in front of me.

And there he is, my little Ben. I start bawling now. God, he’s absolutely perfect.

“Your Dad has better ones on his camera,” Josh continues before looking up at me, and reaching out to stroke my hair. “I’ll bring him up as soon as I’m allowed.” He assures me, before looking down and taking a breath. “Donna. I’m so glad you’re okay.” He pauses. “I can’t do this without you.” He chokes out.

“Miss Moss, it’s great to have you back with us.” The doctor announces as he enters the room.

Josh wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater and stands up quickly, he clears his throat before turning to face the window. I look at him longingly.

“How are you feeling?” The doctor continues, and I reluctantly turn my attention to him. “Any pain?” I shake my head. “Okay, well you let us know if you start to feel any discomfort…” He looks down at the chart. “You gave us quite the scare, Miss Moss. I’m sure your husband has already told you that your son is in great shape.” I see Josh tense up at the word ‘husband’. “I understand he’s being moved from the NICU into the general nursery today.” The doctor is smiling at me. “Now, Donna, you were suffering from eclampsia which led to some grand mal seizure activity, and then to a placental abruption. You lost a significant amount of blood, which meant we had to deliver your son, and repair the uterus, as soon as possible.” The doctor furrows his brow, and I feel Josh return to my side and retake my hand. “I’m afraid that, following your son’s delivery, the surgeons were unable to stem the bleeding. They tried a number of different methods, but they were unsuccessful…” the doctor pauses. “They were forced to remove your uterus. I’m so sorry, Miss Moss.”

I close my eyes and feel my heart racing. Josh is squeezing my hand tightly.

“I’ll give you two some time alone.” I hear the doctor say.

I feel tears slipping down my cheeks, and Josh leans forward to hold me. “It’s okay, Donna.” He says softly before kissing the top of my head.

After a minute he pulls back and looks at me intently. I give him a small smile and shrug my shoulders. Josh bites his lip.

“I’m sorry,” he tells me in a soft voice, and I squeeze his hand.

_17 February 2007_

I’m able to speak a little now, but my voice is raspy and it kills my throat to say more than a few words. The nurse tells me it’s from the breathing tube.

I feel absolutely exhausted, so it’s a challenge to keep my eyes open and I can barely lift my head off my pillow. Even after Gaza, I don’t think I was this unwell.

All I want is to see Ben, but there’s all kinds of hospital protocol that makes that difficult. They won’t let an infant onto a critical care ward, especially not an infant who’s still admitted on a separate ward.

My parents have been here a lot, showing me photos of Ben, and going in-between my room in the ICU and the nursery. Josh has set them up in a hotel room near the hospital, and tonight he’s sent them away with strict instructions to eat a proper meal and get a decent night’s sleep. They must be exhausted, because they didn’t even put up a fight. It does seem a little rich for Josh to doling out that advice though. He hasn’t left the hospital once. And he hardly ever leaves my side. I have to beg him to go and see Ben. He’s worried about me. And he’s upset. He’s so upset…

I am too, but I’m not really allowing myself to dwell on the fact that Ben will be my only baby.

At least I have a baby. At least I am alive.

Josh watches me like a hawk, anxious to ensure that I’m comfortable and content, but it’s difficult to be any of those things when I’m yet to meet my son.

Josh’s Mom, Sarah, has been giving us some space, and I’m thankful. It was pretty crowded with four adults in the room, in addition to myself. Sarah’s been spending a lot of time down in the nursery with Ben, and I’m thankful he’s not alone. Josh says she’s getting time away from the hospital too, because she’s staying with an old friend of hers in Arlington. I like Sarah. I really do. She’s very calm and she has this incredible way of relaxing Josh.

Josh has been amazing. He seems to know exactly what I’m feeling and what I need. It’s surprising, because he’s typically so hesitant and awkward… Right now, he’s holding my hand and letting me rest. I have my eyes shut, but I can tell he’s watching me.

“Josh, you’re staring.” I tell him softly.

“I’m just checking you’re okay…” he mumbles as he clutches my hand tighter.

I squeeze his hand back in response. “You’re not watching CNN?” He hasn’t even bothered switching on the television in my room once – at least not while I’ve been awake.

“No,” comes his quiet reply. I open my heavy eyes and give him a curious look. “I’m on parental leave…” he shrugs and I smirk at him. “You wanna try eating something more?” I shake my head. Josh pauses then shuffles closer to me. “I’ll talk to the doctors again…” he assures me.

He means he’ll try to make them relent and allow Ben to come up here.

I smile encouragingly. “Tomorrow,” I tell him. “You should go home now and get some rest.”

Josh defiantly shakes his head. “I’m fine right here.”

“Josh…”

He ignores me and looks down at my hand. “Lou wants to read a statement at the press briefing on Monday…” He says quietly. “Announce the birth, and get out in front of any media attention. I mean, there’s Secret Service outside your door, it’s bound to break at some point.”

“Makes sense. Do you have a draft?” I ask.

Josh nods and gets his Blackberry from his pocket. “White House Chief of Staff, Joshua Lyman, and Donnatella Moss, are pleased to announce the birth of their son, Benjamin Noah Lyman. Ben was delivered via emergency caesarean section at George Washington University Hospital on Thursday 15 February 2007. The proud parents wish to express their sincere thanks to the emergency, surgical, neonatal and intensive care staff at GW. Mother and baby are recovering well. Mr Lyman is currently taking six weeks of parental leave, with Deputy Chief of Staff, Samuel Seaborn, assuming his duties in the interim…” Josh trails off and looks up to measure my reaction. “There’ll be something from the President and First Lady too, offering their congratulations or whatever...” He runs a hand through his hair. “Any follow ups will be met with the ‘White House does not comment on the personal lives of staff’ standard line.”

“Right…” I nod. “It’s quite detailed, isn’t it? I mean, ‘emergency caesarean’, ‘neonatal and intensive care staff’…”

Josh shrugs. “Lou thinks the press will back off if they get a sense of the circumstances...and apparently the public will be far more understanding of the whole ‘baby out of wedlock’ thing, if they know you almost died.”

I groan and roll my eyes. “Okay. Whatever, it’s fine.”

Josh gives me a small smile. “I’m sorry about this...”

“It’s fine.” I repeat.

“I mean, most parents just run a notice in the newspaper, right?”

“Yeah, well, Ben doesn’t have ‘most parents’.” I grin. “I mean, most babies don’t get a public congratulatory message from the President either.”

Josh grins. “And most new mothers don’t get floral arrangements sent to their hospital room by both the current and former first families…”

I glance over at the large collection of flowers, balloons and get well cards in the corner of my room. “I’m very spoilt.” I admit.

“You deserve nothing less,” Josh tells me as he grasps my hand again.

“You should sleep.” I tell him. “And shave. You need to shave.”

He screws up his face. “I’ll sleep when you do.”

“I’m trying, but you keep staring at me, it makes it hard to nod off…”

Josh rolls his eyes. “I’m just checking…” he shrugs.

“I’m fine!” I grin. “Well, for the most part...”

“You almost died, Donna.”

“But I didn’t.”

Josh swallows. “I can’t lose you.”

I look away. “I’m not going anywhere,” I say softly.

He releases my hand and makes his way over to the window. He’s on the verge of tears but he doesn’t want me to see.

“Get some sleep.” I hear him say forlornly.

_18 February 2007_

Josh is arguing with the ICU staff. He’s using his really snappy, incredulous tone – the one he usually reserves for Republicans when they’ve done something particularly stupid. We can hear every single word he spits at the doctors. He’s just that loud.

My mother is sitting beside me, clutching my hand and looking nervous.

Sarah is sitting with her arms crossed, she rolls her eyes every time Josh says something inflammatory.

My Dad is looking rather impressed.

I’m struggling hard not to laugh, but Mom has just noticed my smirk. “Donna!” she admonishes.

“I’m sorry,” I manage to tell her. “I’m just imagining him on the side-lines at junior baseball…” Dad and Sarah start laughing.

Mom glares at me. “Donna, those doctors worked tirelessly to save you and your baby’s life.”

“She hasn’t seen her son, Gabby.” Dad tells her sternly.

“It’s ridiculous, if you ask me.” Sarah pipes up. “How is Donna supposed to recover if she can’t see her baby…”

Mom sighs. “I know it’s difficult, darling, but we have to listen to the doctors…”

“The doctors are bringing him up.” Josh announces as he walks into the room.

“Really?” I ask him with wide eyes.

“Really.” Josh grins as he makes his way over to me.

“You can really throw your weight around when you need to…” Dad tells Josh, a proud smile on his face.

Josh shrugs his shoulders. “Everyone wants what’s best for Donna.”

I beam up at him. “Thank you…”

He’s here and he’s perfect.

He’s resting on my chest, sound asleep, with his head tucked under my chin, his tiny fist is clutching on to a piece of my hair. He has a distinct smell about him, kind of like vanilla and linen. I wonder if all babies smell like this.

Josh is sitting on the edge of my bed, watching us adoringly.

My Dad is in full on grandfather-mode - incessantly snapping photos.

I have tears rolling down my cheeks. My heart is full.

“He looks like you,” I grin at Josh. Everyone has been saying it, and I could kind of see it in the photos, but with him the two of them in front of me, it’s undeniable.

Josh smiles broadly. “I know.” He’s proud. Ben wriggles around a little, a small frown appearing on his face. “He’s having baby dreams.” Josh tells me. “He gets this really deep crease in his forehead. It cracks me up.” He grins.

It was hard to imagine Josh as a parent. I mean, I knew he’d be great, but I couldn’t really picture him settling a crying baby or anything. But he’s so good at it. He even does the baby talk – I’m not kidding.

Ben wriggles around a little more forcefully. “I think he’s waking up…” I tell Josh and, as if on cue, Ben starts wailing.

I’m still quite weak and easily tired, so Josh plucks Ben off my chest and starts comforting him. “It’s okay, bubba.” He coos, and I side-eye Sarah and my parents who are amusedly watching the scene unfold. “You hungry, buddy? You want a bottle?”

“Are you up to giving breastfeeding a try, honey?” Mom asks me.

“Um, yeah, I think so.” I say tentatively. Mom beams, and leaps to her feet. Meanwhile, Dad hastily excuses himself, apparently not as eager to immortalise this particular moment on film.

“You sure?” Josh asks as he rocks Ben.

“Gotta try some time,” I shrug as Mom comes over and starts undoing the domes on my hospital gown. Sarah grabs a few extra pillows and gently helps to prop me up.

“I can go…” Josh says uncomfortably.

“Josh…” I narrow my gaze.

“K.” He bites his lip and brings Ben over to me.

“Just be careful where you lay him, Josh.” Sarah warns. “You don’t want any pressure on her incision.”

Josh nods, his cheeks a little flushed, and places Ben in my arms. “You got him?”

“Can you just support his head while I try to get this sorted?” I ask, but Josh is looking away, clearly trying to avoid viewing my breasts. “Josh?”

“Uh huh,” Josh says, still averting his gaze.

“You’ve seen them before…” I say cheekily. I hear my Mom and Sarah start to chuckle.

Josh turns his to face me, his jaw clenched. “Not quite like this.” He says quietly.

I grin at him. “You need to help me out here…”

He bites his lip and gently helps to move Ben’s head into position. “Uh huh.” Ben latches on and relaxes a little in my arms. “You good?” Josh asks.

“I think so…” I tell him. “Just don’t go too far, I don’t want to drop him.”

Josh nods and then quirks his head at me. “What?” he asks.

My face is contorted as Ben feeds. “It feels weird…” I explain.

Mom and Sarah start laughing again, and Josh shakes his head amusedly. “Yeah? Is it uncomfortable?” he asks.

I shrug and look down at Ben. “It’s a little bizarre. I guess I’ll get used to it…”

Josh grins at me. “You’re doing great.”

_22 February 2007_

**Josh:**

Ben’s a week old today. I’ve been a Dad for a whole seven days. Time flies. Well, not so much when you don’t sleep and spend every waking moment at the hospital…

But, we’re going home today, all of us.

Donna’s well enough to be discharged, but she still has a long road to recovery. Right now, she tires very easily and is really weak.

“How ya feeling?” I ask as she finishes feeding Ben.

“I just want to get the hell out of here,” Donna admits, she passes Ben to me and rearranges her shirt.

I burp him gently before securing him in his carry capsule.

“So, um, the Secret Service said there’s a few photographers outside the hospital, so they’re gonna take us out through the basement exit.” I tell Donna.

Donna rolls her eyes. “They’ll be outside the house too…”

I shrug in reply. I decide not to tell her that my Mom already spotted a few when she went over to drop off groceries this morning.

“They have to drive us?” Donna asks.

“Ah, yeah.” I furrow my brow.

The agents won’t let me or Ben be driven by anyone but them. I did tell them that it was absolutely imperative that I be the one to drive my son home from the hospital, but Ron Butterfield is not a soft touch…

“How are you feeling?” Donna asks.

“Me?” I asked surprised by her question. “I’m fine.” 

“Really?”

“Really.” I insist.

“Okay, but in a couple of hours we’re going to have a baby in the house, and no kind nurses to help us…”

I smirk at her. “Luckily, Ben has two doting grandmothers…” Gabby and my Mom are staying on for a few weeks to help us out. James is flying back to Wisconsin tomorrow, and I think he’s more than happy about that.

Donna raises her eyebrows. “I’m going to remind you that you said that the next time you roll your eyes at your mother…”

I grin. Okay, so my Mom has kind of been driving me up the wall, but it’s also been a great relief to have her here.

“Can you put my shoes on?” Donna asks in a frustrated voice. “I can’t bend down…”

I grin at her. “You still thinking of getting that little bell?”

“I don’t need it.” Donna replies. “You’re always at my side…”

**Donna:**

“I think he’s done,” I tell Josh as I lift Ben off my breast.

Josh is sitting on the double-bed beside me, he glances down and smiles at Ben. “He looks sleepy.”

“He’s had a big day…” I say softly.

“You want me to put him to bed?” Josh asks.

“Actually, I think I’d just like to hold him a while longer.” I reply, not taking my eyes off Ben.

“You sure? You’re not too tired?”

I shrug. “I’m okay,” I cuddle Ben a little closer and watch as his eyelids grow heavier and heavier. “Josh, he is so gorgeous…”

Josh settles back against the pillows and looks down at Ben lovingly. “Yeah, we did good, huh?”

“So good.” I agree.

I can hear my Mom and Sarah in the kitchen, gossiping and laughing as they cook together. I’m not surprised that the two of them have become fast friends. They have much in common and share a surprisingly wicked sense of humour.

Josh has the TV playing quietly in the corner of my room, but he’s not really watching it. Instead he’s transfixed by Ben. I can see him smiling at our son’s tiny toes and the slight grimace he has on his face as he tries to fight off sleep.

It is so nice to be home, and I know Josh feels the same way. He relaxed the second we walked through the door. It was almost as if he had been holding his breath since Ron Butterfield had told him I was unwell, and had only been able to let it out when we were finally back in our little apartment.

I look down at Ben who is slowly succumbing to sleep. Beside me I can see that Josh is growing weary too. After a few minutes both my boys are fast asleep.

“Donna?” Mom’s voice calls softly from the doorway. “Are you ready for dinner?”

“Not quite yet,” I reply.

Mom smiles, taking in the image of the three of us lazing on the bed. “I think this might be the only sleep he’s had in a week…” she says as she looks at Josh.

“He hates hospitals.” I tell her as I gently rock Ben.

“He has been amazing, Donna.” Mom tells me, she leans against the doorframe and folds her arms.

“Yeah,” I smile slightly as my gaze shifts to sleeping Josh. “He’s a good man.”

“He is,” Mom agrees. “He loves you very much.”

I gulp a little and look back down at Ben. “I know.”

“Do you?” Mom asks, a serious look on her face. She makes sure to wipe it as Sarah appears at her side and peeks into the bedroom curiously. “I think we might need to hold off on dinner…” Mom tells her.

Sarah smiles. “We can start without him.” She walks into the room and plucks a blanket from the end of the bed, before draping it over Josh. “Let’s get this wee one into his own bed too.” She says and I gently pass her Ben. “Oh, Benjamin Noah you are cute as a button,” she coos as she transfers him into his bassinet.

“We were just saying how wonderful Josh has been.” Mom says softly as she helps me to my feet.

Sarah pauses before turning to me. “You’re surprised?” she asks.

I shrug as the three of us make our way of the bedroom. “No.” I bite my lip. “I knew he would be.”

Sarah grins. “I’m surprised.” She admits and I look at her quizzically. “I mean, this is the first time Josh has switched on CNN in over a week…” My Mom laughs. “But, seriously,” Sarah tells me. “It’s nice to see my son be so caring. And happy. He’s really happy.”

I settle myself at the table. “You think so?”

Sarah shrugs. “I don’t think he ever imagined he would have this. A family of his own...”

Mom grabs my hand under the table. “It’s very special for both of you,” she smiles.

“I know it’s not the greatest circumstances…” I start, but Mom and Sarah both shake their heads adamantly.

“It’s the modern way,” Sarah asserts. “Lots of young couples aren’t bothering with marriage these days.”

“Well, I meant that we’re not…” I pause. “Me and Josh, I mean, we’re not together…”

“We know that.” Mom tells me. “But you never know…” Her voice is incredibly optimistic.

“Mom.”

“Donnatella.” Mom purses her lips.

“Let’s eat.” Sarah says as she starts dishing our plates.


	15. Chapter 15

_11 March 2007_

**Josh:**

Donna is staring intently into Ben’s bassinet as he sleeps. “You okay?” I ask as I take a seat on her bed.

She shrugs. “Yeah.”

Her Mom is heading back to Wisconsin today and I can tell Donna’s feeling a little sad about her leaving.

“You sure?” I press.

Donna looks at me and sighs. “It’s silly…” she shakes her head. “I know we’ll be fine.”

I shrug. “I get it, Donna. It’s your Mom.”

Donna smiles at me before looking down at Ben. “Everything is moving so fast,” she laments. “I mean, you’ve only got a couple more weeks of parental leave…”

“I can take more.” I tell her.

She gives me a funny look. “You really can’t.” She says as she folds her arms. She’s right, I can’t. Donna comes and sits beside me on the bed. “We’re doing okay, right?” she asks.

“At parenting?” I ask quizzically.

“Yeah,” Donna confirms.

“I mean, I think we’re doing an okay job. The kid’s in pretty good shape.” I grin.

“Be serious, Josh.” Donna crosses her arms. “I mean, do you think we can do this? Without help?”

“My Mom’s still her for a couple more days.” I shrug. “We’ll be fine.”

“And after that?” Donna asks. “When it’s just us?”

“Donna,” I whine and wrap my arm around her. “You’re amazing at this. You’re still recovering from a brush with death and yet you’re completely nailing motherhood.”

Donna rolls her eyes and I grin at her. The nice moment we’re having is interrupted by a knock at the door.

“That’ll be our mothers…” I sigh as I get up off the bed. My Mom is dropping Donna’s Mom at the airport, but promised to swing by our place on the way so Gabby could have one last squeeze of Ben. “Your Mom better not wake him up!” I tell Donna sternly.

We just spent two hours settling a very fussy baby, who was actually red in the face from crying so hard. It was utterly exhausting and frustrating, and probably the major reason behind Donna’s sudden lack of confidence in our combined parenting abilities.

I open the door and am almost bowled over by a hug from Gabby. She’s already sobbing. “Oh, I’m going to miss you all so much…” She wails as she squeezes me tightly.

I glance over Gabby’s shoulder at my Mom who is clearly enjoying the sight of her son enduring forced affection. “We’ll see you guys in no time,” I assure Gabby. “And we’ll make sure to email you new photos every week.”

Gabby pulls back and smiles at me warmly while she wipes her tears. “Now, where is my beautiful daughter?!” She says loudly as she bounds into the house.

“A little quieter please Gabby, we just got the baby to…” I’m interrupted by my son wailing. “Sleep.” I finish before I close the front door a little too loudly.

My mother looks at me and grins. “Don’t worry, Joshua, we grandmothers will soon be out of your hair.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks for dropping by, Mom.”

“Not a problem, sweetheart.” Mom tells me. “I’m just gonna check in on him too.” She says as she sets off towards Donna’s room.

Gabby emerges five minutes later, her eyes red-rimmed.

“You okay?” I ask, as she seats herself on the sofa beside me.

Gabby tilts her head up, in an effort to stop further tears escaping. Donna tells me her mother’s flair for the dramatic comes from her Sicilian roots. “Oh, I’m just having a moment…” She sighs before turning to look at me. “Your son is an absolute treasure.”

“I know,” I smile in response.

Gabby picks up my hand and sandwiches it between hers. “I know you’ll look after them, Joshua.” She says in a serious tone.

“Yeah, of course,” I assure her.

“Donna loves you, you know…” Gabby says quietly.

I turn away. “Gabby…”

Gabby rolls her eyes. “I’m not trying to meddle,” she sighs. “I just want you kids to be happy.”

Does Gabby seem to think I’m the one holding back here? That I’m reluctant to be with Donna? Because that is not the case. I want to scream into Gabby’s face and confess that I’m madly in love with her daughter, that I’d marry her in a heartbeat…

Instead, I stand up from the couch and crane my neck down the hallway. “You and Mom should probably hit the road. Don’t wanna miss your flight.” I tell Gabby as I walk away. “Mom?!” I yell. “What’s the holdup?!”

**Donna:**

Sam and his fiancée are visiting. It was kind of pitched to me as a chance for Sam to catch Josh up on what’s happening at the office, but it has instead turned into Sam and Josh drinking beers and watching the Mets play the Giants. Meanwhile, Natalie and I are in the nursery tending to the baby – who, by the way, is looking super cute in his Mets onesie, even if it is slightly too big for him.

The truth is, the last thing I feel like doing right now is entertaining. It took another hour to settle Ben after my Mom and Sarah left for the airport, and all I want to do right now is crawl into bed. I especially don’t want to get into a conversation about the intricacies of mine and Josh’s relationship with a woman whom Josh and I barely know. However, it seems Natalie has other ideas.

“You know Josh was in quite a state on inauguration night…” she tells me.

“Oh yeah?” I ask as if I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“Yeah,” Natalie pauses. “He said you guys kissed.” She quirks her eyebrows at me and leans back to measure my reaction.

Again, I barely know this woman. She’s nice enough – I mean, she is Sam’s fiancée after all – but this is only about the fourth time we’ve hung out together. As such, I find this whole conversation a little too direct. So, I redirect. “You feeling better now, buddy?” I ask Ben as I fasten the domes on his onesie.

“So, did you?” Natalie asks. “Kiss?”

I settle Ben into my arms and keep my eyes fixed on his. “Um, yeah.” I shrug. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Natalie nods. “Right.” She quirks her head at me again. “It just seemed that maybe Josh thought it was a big deal…”

My breath stilts. “It just kind of happened,” I explain. “We talked about it the next day and decided to let it go…”

“I know that the situation between you guys is…” Natalie pauses. “ _Complicated_.”

“Honestly, it’s not that complicated.” I assure Natalie as I settle into the rocking chair. “I’m gonna feed him…” I explain, in case she’d rather leave me alone.

Please god, let her be one of those prudes that can’t bear to be in the same room as a breastfeeding woman…

Natalie nods. “Go ahead.”

Damn it.

Natalie folds her arms and walks across to the window, peering down into the street below. “Do you think it’s complicated for Josh?” she asks, turning back to me. “I mean, he was so upset that night. Sam and I both thought that it was clear the kiss had meant something to him.”

“Natalie,” I sigh. “I don’t mean to be rude, but Josh and I have spoken at length about our relationship.”

She nods slowly. “I’m sorry,” she tells me. “I just wanted to let you know. He seems like a pretty closed book, I wasn’t sure if he’d told you exactly what he was feeling…”

I rub Ben’s back as he feeds. “Josh and I didn’t make the best couple for precisely that reason.” I explain. “And we’ve decided that It’s not fair on Ben to try to make the impossible work.”

Natalie bites her lip. “Is it really impossible? You guys are already living together and raising a child…”

I narrow my gaze at Natalie. “Why are you pushing this so hard?”

Natalie shrugs. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. “It’s fine,” I assure her. “Sorry, I’m a little tetchy because I’ve had weeks of my parents saying the same stuff to me...”

“It’s just…” Natalie takes a breath. “God, Donna, you must see how he looks at you?!”

I feel my cheeks flush. “There’s a difference between love and lust.” I say quietly.

“Well, which is it with him?”

“That’s precisely the problem,” I grin. “He couldn’t tell you.”

_12 March 2007_

**Josh:**

Donna and I are having an incredibly domestic moment. It’s our first night together, just the three of us. My Mom cooked us dinner but then left immediately for her friend’s place. I just finished doing the dishes and joined Donna on the sofa. She’s feeding Ben and we’re watching CNN. We’re sitting close to one another, it’s kind of like we’re cuddling, but we’re not. It’s the kind of mundane scene you think about when you think about a family. Normal, but utterly wonderful.

“You tired?” I ask as I catch her yawning.

She gives me a sleepy smirk. “Uh huh,” she confirms. “I’m hoping this wee guy will be too soon.”

“Straight to bed?” I ask.

“Nah, he needs a bath first. He spit up a lot today and he’s starting to smell funky…”

I grin. “Your Mommy’s teasing you, wee man.” I say as I rub the back of his head. “You want me to get the tub ready?”

We’ve been bathing him in a plastic baby bath since we brought him home. Well, me mainly, or one of the grandmothers, it requires far too much bending over for Donna right now.

Donna shrugs. “Or we could just stick him in with you,” she suggests.

“In the shower?” I ask perplexed.

“In the bathtub,” she tells me.

“When have you ever known me to take a bath?” I ask her.

Donna tilts her head towards me and raises her eyebrows a little. I flush as I realise what she’s thinking about, but she moves on quickly, telling me, “It’ll be relaxing. Plus it’s good for Ben to have skin-to-skin time with his Daddy.”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Donna insists. “It’s a parenting life-hack,” she explains. “Baby gets clean while you do.”

“Fine,” I groan as I lift myself off the couch and make my way to the bathroom.

I call Donna once the tub’s full and it’s only then that I start to consider the protocol for this arrangement. “How are we gonna do this?” I ask as Donna starts undressing Ben.

Donna gives me a strange look. “What do you mean?” I point with my thumb to the bath. “I’ll pass him to you when you’re in…” she tells me in a condescending tone.

“But…” I grimace. “Like, should I put a bathing suit on?”

Donna laughs. “Oh my god, Josh.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen it before…” Donna grins.

I groan. “Donna.”

“What? Come on. Strip!” she insists.

I hurriedly take my clothes off and jump into the bath. Donna grins and passes Ben to me, before taking a seat on the side of the tub. “You’re gonna watch?!” I ask her, my eyes wide.

“Josh, it’s not a big deal.”

“I’d say it’s above average…” I mutter quietly.

Donna bites her lip and shoots me a devilish glare. “Do you want to get Ben circumcised?” she asks suddenly.

“Oh, okay, this is definitely weird.” I look at her with raised eyebrows. “Stop looking at it.”

“I’m not!” Donna insists. “It just occurred to me – and trust me when I tell you that this thought had _absolutely nothing_ to do with me viewing your penis just now – that we never really discussed religion.”

“You’re right. I’m sure one of the commandments was ‘Thou shalt not covet thy baby daddy’s peen’…” I smirk.

“Josh!” She rolls her eyes. “I’m not coveting! And I’m being serious here. What are we gonna raise him as?”

“Well, we’ve missed the moment for a bris.” I tell her before shrugging. “I don’t know, Donna. A bit of this and a bit of that…”

“Christmas and Hanukah?"

“Sure, why not.” I grin. “He’ll get double the gifts!”

Donna rolls her eyes again. “So, no circumcision?”

“I don’t care.” I tell her as I grin down at Ben who is splashing wildly in my arms, clearly loving bath time with Daddy.

“He won’t look like you.” Donna tells me.

I raise my eyebrows. “Again, Donna, my eyes are up here…” I tease.

Donna smirks. “Catholic and Jewish…” She shakes her head disbelievingly.

“Double the guilt too,” I grin.

_13 March 2007_

It's Mom’s last evening with us before she flies back to Palm Beach tomorrow. We’re washing up from dinner while Donna puts Ben down.

“You know I can come back whenever you need help,” Mom tells me as she hands me a plate to dry.

“Yes, Mom. You’ve made that very clear…” I smirk.

She rolls her eyes. “Well, excuse me for wanting to be an involved grandparent.”

“Mom, you know we’ve really appreciated you being here.” I tell her sincerely.

She smiles warmly. “It’s been very special, Joshua. You know I never thought I’d be a grandmother…”

I groan. “Yes, I know.”

“I’m just saying, it’s very special to _finally_ be someone’s Bubbee.” Mom tells me, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Mom.” I groan again before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss into her hair. “Well, I finally knocked someone up. You’re welcome.” I tell her cheekily.

Mom ignores my faux sentimentality. “You have a precious son, Joshua.” She says quietly. “And he has an incredible mother.” I gulp and feel my jaw clench a little. “You know that though, don’t you?” I nod silently and start to take a keener interest in drying the dishes. “Joshua?”

“Uh huh…”

“Have you told Donna how you feel?” Mom whispers.

“Mom.” I whine as I squeeze my eyes shut.

“You need to.”

I sigh exasperatedly. “Stop.”

“Tell her exactly how you feel about her.” Mom presses.

“It’s not that easy when you have a child together, Mom.”

Mom scoffs. “That should make it even easier.” I toss the dish rag onto the counter and groan. “Don’t be a fool, Joshua.” Mom tells me sternly.

I shake my head. “Do you really think Donna and I haven’t discussed this?”

Mom looks down. “I just don’t understand how you can bear to keep her close, yet at a distance, _again_.”

“Mom, I just…” I exhale deeply. “I just can’t, okay?”

I watch as Mom blinks back tears before returning her attention to the sink full of dirty dishes.

_15 March 2007_

**Donna:**

“Josh?” I knock lightly on the door to his room before turning the handle. “Can you keep an ear out for Ben? He’s asleep, but I’m just jumping in the shower…” I stop talking abruptly when I spot Josh lying naked on his bed, his eyes tightly closed, and his hand…well, I think you can sense where this is going.

“Donna!!!” Josh’s eyes immediately burst open as he hears me enter, and his free hand frantically searches for his comforter as he scurries to cover himself up.

“Oh my god!” My jaw drops and I quickly fumble for the door handle before turning around and slamming the door behind me.

“Fuck!” I hear Josh exclaim.

With my back pressed against his bedroom door, I collapse into a fit of laughter. “I’m sorry,” I manage to blurt out in between giggles. “I knocked!”

“Donnaaaaaa.” I hear Josh whine.

“Can I come in?” I ask.

Josh groans. “Yes.”

I open the door slowly and peek inside. “Are you decent?”

Josh glares at me. He’s sitting up now, with the comforter covering him from the waist down. “That was humiliating...” He tells me through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry.” I grin.

“You don’t look very sorry.” Josh grimaces.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Josh. Everyone needs _alone time_.” I bite my lip.

“Oh my god.” Josh’s head drops into his hands. “I am mortified.”

“Don’t be.” I grin. “It’s fine.”

Josh lets out another agonising groan. “I just…” He pauses and squeezes his eyes shut. “I couldn’t do it when our Moms were around.” He laments.

“Oh, so, you haven’t…” I can’t find the words to finish my sentence so I wave my hands around to try and get my message across.

“Mmmhmmm.” Josh groans.

“Since before Ben was…?” I ask with my eyebrows raised.

Josh glares at me. “Donna.”

“I should let you get back to it…” I nod to myself and I start to back out the doorway.

Josh rolls his eyes. “You’re killing me.” He tells me dramatically as he roughly runs his hands through his hair.

“Relax, Josh. Everyone does it.” I shrug my shoulders. “Hell, I was _ridiculously_ horny towards the end of my pregnancy…”

Josh quirks his head at me. “What?” he demands with a confused look on his face.

I shrug again. “I just mean that it’s not a big deal.”

“You were…” Josh’s mouth is hanging open. “In my bed? While I was here?” I fear that if his voice goes up another octave only dogs will be able to hear him.

I roll my eyes. “I have needs.”

Josh chuckles. “Oh, I’m aware, Donna. I used to tend to them.” He grins. “On the regular.”

I hear Ben start wailing from the nursery. “For that comment, you can deal with the baby.” I tell him as I walk out of his room. “I’ll be in the shower.”

“Okay.” I can tell he’s grinning by the tone of his voice. “You enjoy that detachable shower head...”

_18 March 2007_

**Josh:**

Donna is doing a lot better at the moment, but she still tires really easily.

I find myself forgetting the enormity of what she has been through, because she’s just so strong and she takes everything in her stride. She mothers Ben in this absolutely effortless way. Always putting him before herself, and never uttering a complaint, despite the fact that she has barely had an hour of interrupted sleep in the past month. Anyone else would be beside themselves, but Donna just keeps trucking along, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she is about ten times as tired as any other new mother, given she’s recovering from major surgery and excessive blood loss.

Today, she appears even more exhausted than usual and I can tell she’s in a little pain. So, I made an executive decision to take Ben for a walk around the neighbourhood to ensure Donna can have an uninterrupted afternoon nap. Despite DC putting on a sunny day, it’s still March and absolutely freezing out. The sidewalks are icy and I can see my breath in front of me. Ben is dozing in his bugaboo. Donna fed him just before we left and this is his usual naptime, so he’s relatively content. He’s wrapped up in blankets and is wearing a tiny knitted beanie.

As I push his pram along, I find myself marvelling at how dramatically my life has changed in just a few months. I’m now a father and the White House Chief of Staff. Oh, and I’m being trailed by two _literal_ Men in Black…

It’s crazy how life works.

While Ben has grown a lot in the past five weeks, he’s still absolutely tiny. I find it wild that I am actually responsible for such a precious little person. It’s wilder still that I no longer feel absolutely terrified about watching him on my own. It’s just a marginal level of terror these days…

I glance down at my watch. We’ve only been gone half an hour, but the cold is starting to get to me and I know there’s a café up ahead.

“Coffee?” I ask the agents behind me in a hopeful tone.

They glance at one another and then nod. It appears they consider a random Starbucks in Georgetown to represent a minimal threat to the White House Chief of Staff. Also they’re cold too, so a hot drink probably isn’t an unattractive offer.

I’m surveying the café for a free table when I hear someone call my name.

I whip my head around and spot Olivia Beaumont. “Hey,” I smile in surprise.

“Hey yourself,” she grins, before tilting her head at the pram I’m pushing. “So, when you said it was complicated, you really weren’t kidding…”

I feel my cheeks flush. “Ah, no, I was not…” I smile nervously.

Liv grins. “Care to join me?” she asks, and I notice that she peers behind me to my agents, an amused look on her face.

I hesitate for a moment before pushing the pram towards her. “This is Ben.” I tell her as I take a seat at her table.

Liv peers into the pram. “He’s gorgeous,” she smiles before turning her attention back to me. “I’ve gotta tell ya, Josh, I was a little surprised to read that you’d become a father...”

I nervously rub the back of my neck. “You read that, huh?”

Liv shrugs. “It was all over the media…”

“Yeah,” I nod slowly. “It actually wasn’t as bad as I was expecting.” Bemused, Liv quirks her head at me. “The coverage, I mean.” I clarify quickly.

Lou’s plan had worked relatively well, and we were not forced to endure the media witch hunt that I’d been expecting. Of course, there were a number of articles and a few pictures of Donna and I splashed in the papers, and some conservative television pundits questioned whether the White House should have a Chief of Staff with my 'moral ambiguity'. But, all in all, the situation did not generate the amount of vitriol I thought it would. Likely due to Lou’s dramatic reading of our statement at the press briefing which clearly signalled that Ben’s birth had not gone at all smoothly.

Liv smiles. “So, how is fatherhood treating you?”

I glance down at Ben. “It’s good,” I say slowly before shrugging. “Kind of overwhelming.” I admit.

Liv nods. “And how is Ben’s Mom doing?”

“Donna?” I ask. “Um, she’s okay. She’s on the mend.” I pause as a server places my cup of coffee on the table. “I’m just keeping him out of the house for a couple hours so she can get some sleep.”

Liv smiles warmly before looking at me intently. “Are you two _together_?”

I feel my face breaking out into a smile. “Um, no.” I confirm as I bite my lip.

Liv nods slowly. “Okay.”

“Okay.” I reply with a wide grin.

“But you’re living together?” Liv tilts her head and waits for a response.

I pause and feel myself swallow. “Uh huh…”

“Interesting.”

“Are you sure you’re an art dealer, and not a journalist?” I ask snidely.

Liv raises her eyebrows and takes a sip of her coffee. “I’m an _interested_ party.” She explains with a sly glint in her eye.

I quirk my head. “Interested?” I squeak.

“That’s what I said.” Liv smirks at me as she takes her sip of her coffee.

“Okay.” I grab my own mug and take a long swig.

We’re both silent for a while, watching one another while we drink our coffee. It’s clear that we’re both trying to figure out what the other person is thinking.

“When do you start back at work?” Liv asks suddenly.

“The second of April.” I reply.

Liv nods. “Right.”

“Why?” I ask, with another wide smile plastered on my face.

Liv ignores me. “How was the rest of your inaugural night?” she asks, expertly changing the subject.

“Uneventful.” I reply. “You?”

“I told you that you should’ve brought a date.” Liv remarks. “My evening was similarly dull.”

“Do you think that I have women lining up to date me?” I grin.

“Oh, so you don’t?” Liv quirks her head at me.

“No.” I assure her.

“But, Josh, you’re one of DC’s most eligible bachelors…” Liv teases.

I bite my lip. “Don’t believe everything you read.”

“Right,” Liv pauses. “So, Ben’s Mom is not your former secretary?” She tries to stifle a grin.

My jaw clenches involuntarily. “She was my _assistant_.” I clarify. “And we weren’t working together when we…” I trail off. “You know…” I try to convey my gist via haphazard hand gestures.

Liv smirks as she watches me squirm. “Okay.”

I shake my head incredulously. “Donna’s like my best friend.” I explain.

“Uh huh.” Liv looks amused.

I feel a little flustered. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.” I admit through a smile, Liv simply shrugs and takes another sip of her coffee. “Are you seeing anyone?” I ask. I try to sound nonchalant, like I’m not really invested in her answer.

“No.” Liv looks at me amusedly and I signal for her to go on. “I’m divorced,” she tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

I nod slowly. “Okay.”

The café door slams suddenly, and Ben immediately starts wailing. I tear my attention away from Liv to scoop him up from his pram and start soothing him.

“Shhhh, it’s okay buddy. It’s okay.” I coo as I cuddle him closely. “Did that wake you up? Huh?” I kiss the top of his head and rock him gently. After a while, his crying fades away.

Liv is watching me closely, a curious look on her face. “You’re good with him,” she tells me and I grin. Liv purses her lips as she examines me again. “You know you looked _really_ good in that tux, but there’s something unbelievably sexy about a man with a baby...”

I gulp and look down, a little surprised by her forwardness. “Is that right?” I chuckle. I wonder for a brief second if my two agents are listening in our conversation from their seats just a few tables over.

Liv puts her elbow on the table and rests her chin against her hand. “You know, I thought you might call me after the ball.”

“Alas, I didn’t get your number…” I smirk.

Liv shrugs. “I wouldn’t imagine that tracking me down would prove too much of a problem for the White House Chief of Staff…”

I grin at her before turning to place Ben back into his pram. “I had a few other things on my mind.” I admit.

“Like?”

I sit back against the chair. “Do you wanna go out with me?” I ask point blank.

“Are you asking that rhetorically? Or are you asking me out?” Liv questions, her eyebrows raised.

I clear my throat. “Uh, I actually don’t know.” I admit with a chuckle.

“Okay.” Liv smirks and crosses her arms. “Where’s your phone?”

“In my pocket.” I reply.

Liv outstretches her hand expectantly and I begrudgingly hand it to her. She inputs her number before sliding my Blackberry back across the table to me. “Why don’t you call me if you figure it out.” She grins and stands up to leave. I look up at her in fascination. “It was nice to see you again, Josh Lyman.” She smiles. “And, it was nice to meet you, Ben.”

“Bye.” I bite my lip and watch as she drapes her coat over her shoulders.

“See ya,” Liv grins as she walks away.

I sit back against my chair and exhale. What in the hell just happened? And why do I feel so damn good?

_21 March 2007_

**Donna:**

CJ’s back in town for a couple of days to give a guest lecture at Georgetown about her time at the White House. She had a couple of free hours so dropped in to meet Ben and fill Josh and I in on her post-White House life. She’s recently moved to LA and – in a shocking development, that nobody saw coming – has moved in with Danny Concannon. They’re both enjoying their newfound freedom and the sunshine. Danny’s writing a book and CJ has started a new job for a non-profit.

Josh excused himself a little while after CJ arrived and went for a run. I think he sensed that I really needed some time alone to talk with an old friend.

“It’s still so crazy seeing you with a baby in your arms,” CJ grins at me as I hold a sleepy Ben.

I smile at her. “I know, right? I still can’t really believe it myself.”

“You know Danny has been talking…” CJ raises her eyebrows at me.

“Oh really?”

“Uh huh…” CJ takes a sip of her coffee and shrugs. “I mean, there’s no real reason not to now.”

I smirk. “Uh huh…”

“What?!” CJ exclaims.

“Nothing!” I grin back. “It’s just…wow. You guys are pretty serious, huh?”

CJ blushes. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

“Well, I say go for it.” I tell her as I look down at Ben. “I can’t imagine my life without him now.”

CJ smiles. “He’s pretty darn cute.”

“I’m sure he’d welcome a playmate…” I tell her playfully. “Perhaps one with strawberry blonde hair?”

CJ rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see…”

I laugh and rock Ben a little more. “You want to hold him?” I ask. “Y’know, get some practice in?”

“Oh god,” CJ groans. “I never should’ve mentioned anything!” But she gladly relieves me of Ben. “What about you?” she asks as she settles Ben in her arms.

I look at her strangely as I relax back into the sofa. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want more?” she asks. I feel myself swallow a gulp. “I don’t mean with Josh, _per se_.” CJ hurriedly adds.

I sigh and start to pick at the threads of an old knitted blanket that’s hanging over the side of the sofa. “It’s not that.” I say softly. “They had to remove my uterus when Ben was born.” I explain.

“Oh, Donna. Oh, I’m so sorry.” CJ tells me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know…” she trails off.

I shrug and force a smile. “It’s okay, Ceej.” I assure her. “There was a lot of bleeding and they couldn’t stop it…”

CJ sighs. “I’m really sorry, Donna.” She tells me solemnly.

“It’s okay…” I look up at her and shake my head. “I mean, at least I have Ben.” I pause and feel my eyes welling up.

“Donna…” CJ says softly.

I shake my head again. “Sorry,” I mutter. “I don’t know why I’m getting upset. It’s really not a big deal.”

“Donna,” she repeats. “It is a big deal.”

I bite my lip. “I haven’t really let myself think about it,” I admit as my tears start to fall.

“It’s a big thing to process.” CJ tells me.

“It’s silly really. I wasn’t even seriously thinking of having more kids. It’s just having the option taken away…” I gulp and the tears keep spilling down my face.

“It’s hugely unfair,” says CJ. “I’m so sorry.”

I dab at my wet cheeks with the sleeve of my jumper. “I’m okay,” I half-smile. “Just a hormonal wreck still…”

“Donna, you’ve just had a baby in a very traumatic way.” CJ reminds me. “You’re allowed to be a little emotional.”

I nod and look adoringly at Ben as he sleeps in his Aunt CJ’s arms. “I’m just trying to keep myself together. For him.” I explain.

CJ nods but looks a little concerned. “Donna, you don’t have to be okay _all the time_ you know.”

I take a deep breath. “I know.”

“How has Josh been?”

I shrug and shake my head, while blinking back more tears. “He’s great,” I assure her.

“Do you talk?” CJ asks. “About how you’re feeling?”

I shrug. “Yeah,” I reply half-heartedly.

“Donna.” CJ looks at me concernedly. “You can tell him.”

“We’ve talked,” I assure her.

“I bet he’s upset too.” CJ sighs as she looks down at Ben.

“Why would you say that?” I ask CJ quizzically.

CJ rolls her eyes. “Oh come on, Donna.”

“What?”

“You think he didn’t want a family with you?” CJ asks almost incredulously.

“Well, we have a son together…” I reply, averting CJ’s prying stare.

“You know what I mean.” CJ tells me pointedly.

I sigh and feel more tears drip down my face. “We keep each other at an arm’s length.” I admit as the tears keep flowing.

“Oh, Donna.” CJ eyes me sadly.

We’re both startled by the sound of a key turning in the door. I barely have time to compose myself as Josh walks in, red-faced and sweaty from his run. CJ and I are both staring at him awkwardly.

“What’s up?” he asks as he looks at us. I see him gulp as he notices my tear-stained cheeks. “You okay?” he says quietly.

“Oh, you know what we’re like when we get together,” CJ tells him in a jovial tone.

Josh looks at her strangely, then his gaze shifts down to Ben. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s fine,” CJ grins. “Actually, he’s pretty damn perfect.”

Josh half-smiles then looks at me, catching me as I drag my sleeve across my face again. “You need anything?” he asks concernedly. I shake my head and force a smile. “K. I’m gonna jump in the shower.” Josh tells me as he makes his way towards the bathroom.

CJ and I don’t start speaking again until we hear the faucet turn on.

“I think it’s my fault,” I admit quietly. “Why things are weird between us, I mean…”

CJ furrows her brow. “How do you figure?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, I was the one to break things off before I realised I was pregnant.” I take a breath. “And we had this moment before he left for the inaugural balls, but I pulled away. I knew I was screwing with his head…” I sigh and return to fidgeting with the loose threads of the blanket. “Then I told him I loved him when they were taking me into surgery...” my voice quivers a little as I share that particular part of the story with CJ. “I just feel like I keep letting him down. Like I keep hurting him.”

“Josh is a big boy, Donna.”

I shake my head. “I dunno, Ceej. I thought I knew him so well, but I had no idea how much I really hurt him when I left the White House, and then I did it again when I broke up with him…”

“He’s not completely at fault here, Donna.” CJ insists. “He was holding you back and he knows it. And – from what you’ve told me – he wasn’t the greatest boyfriend in the world…”

“We were on the campaign trail, it wasn’t easy…”

The faucet in the bathroom suddenly turns off.

CJ sits back against the sofa. “You both need to figure out what the hell you actually want from each other,” she whispers.

“Easier said than done.” I sigh.

**Josh:**

Ben’s in quite a state tonight. Nothing we do seems to settle him.

He’s not hungry, he doesn’t need a new diaper, he’s not sleepy, he’s not cold, he’s not hot, and he doesn’t have gas. So, Donna and I are all out of ideas. He has been wailing for over an hour now, and Donna looks like she might start soon…

“Shhhh, Benny. It’s okay. It’s okay.” I tell him as I cradle him to my shoulder and pace around the nursery.

“Do you think it’s colic?” Donna asks worriedly.

I shoot her a bewildered look. “I have no idea what that is, Donna.” I admit as I rub Ben’s back.

“He’s just so distressed…” Donna laments.

“He’s okay.” I assure her. “I’ve got him. Why don’t you go make a cup of tea or something?”

“I’m fine,” Donna insists as she chews her nails. “Should we call someone?” she asks.

“Who?”

“My Mom?” Donna suggests.

“He’ll probably be okay by the time she gets here…” I grin.

Donna rolls her eyes. “Josh.”

“Sorry.” I grin, before flinching as Ben lets out a particularly high-pitched cry directly into my ear.

Donna walks out of the nursery and I can hear her dialling a number on the landline.

“C’mon buddy,” I tell Ben as I bounce him. “You’ve been at this for a while now, you’ve gotta give it a break.”

It’s coming up to 11pm and I’m starting to feel very sorry for my neighbours. I hadn’t really factored the noise levels that a baby can reach when deciding to stay in the apartment. Perhaps I could have swung that house in Spring Valley if I’d had this intel up my sleeve. Under different circumstances I’d be half-expecting an irate neighbour to pound on my door and urge me to shut my baby the hell up. But, I’m fairly certain the two Secret Service agents posted outside serve as a decent deterrent.

“Mom says we should take him for a walk.” Donna tells me as she walks back in, phone in hand.

“A walk?”

“Yeah, Mom said the vibration of the pram will put him to sleep.”

“It’s freezing out!” I complain.

“We’ll rug him up.” Donna assures me.

I roll my eyes. “Seriously? We’re gonna wake up half the neighbourhood…”

“Well we’ve tried everything else, Josh!” Donna snaps.

“K.” I bite my lip.

We’ve been pushing Ben around the block for ten minutes, and he’s finally asleep. Though he keeps kind of crying and grunting despite being asleep, which is a little disconcerting. It’s freezing out but Donna is worried that if we stop walking, he’ll just wake back up.

“We can’t stay out here all night, you know…” I tell her.

“Just a little longer.” Donna pleads.

I roll my eyes. We’re being trailed by an agent and it’s bitterly cold out here. “We’re spoiling him.” I tell Donna.

“He’s not even six weeks old, he’s allowed to be spoilt.” Donna assures me.

I groan and continue pushing the pram along the sidewalk. Donna shivers beside me. “You cold?” I ask.

Before she can answer I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her into me. I feel her tense a little at our sudden closeness, before she relaxes and we continue walking in-step. I gulp as I realize I’ve just instinctively hugged her, but do my best to pretend this is a completely normal situation.

“It was good to see Ceej today.” Donna tells me.

“Mmmhmm.” I reply half-heartedly.

“Her and Danny are getting pretty serious.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh. They’ve got a place together now.” I simply nod in reply. “And Danny wants a baby.” Donna tells me.

“Really?!” I exclaim. “Wow.”

“Crazy right?” Donna grins.

I glance down at Ben asleep in his bugaboo. “I dunno, crazier things have happened...”

Donna smirks before furrowing her brow. “CJ asked if we were…” she trails off and bites her lip. “If _I_ wanted more kids.”

I gulp. “Oh.”

Donna shakes her head and sighs. “That’s why I was upset,” she explains. “I’d just told her about the hysterectomy.”

“Right.” I hug her a little more tightly.

“I guess I just haven’t really allowed myself to think about it.” Donna says quietly.

“Yeah.” I don’t what else to say to her.

“It’s just kind of hard to have the option taken away, you know?” I nod solemnly. “I don’t know…” Donna sighs. “I guess I thought if I was gonna have a kid, I’d have more than one.”

“Yeah.” I agree.

“Do you want more?” I glance at her confusedly and Donna hurriedly clarifies. “I just mean that that’s still a possibility for you. You could meet somebody…”

I clench my jaw. “Donna.” I start before looking away. “I’m not really looking to start a family with someone else.”

Donna pauses for a moment. “I don’t mean like imminently, Josh. Just maybe one day.”

I loosen my grip on her and we slowly separate. “Yeah.” I look down at Ben. “He’s out.” I tell Donna. “Let’s head back.”

Transferring a sleeping baby from their pram to their bed requires the kind of stealth and composure that I imagine only a bomb diffuser possesses. I’m secretly stoked with myself that I’ve managed to do it without Ben so much as wriggling.

“You good?” Donna asks as she kicks off her shoes and sits back on her bed.

“Uh huh.” I whisper with a grin. “I’m a professional.”

Donna smirks at me. “Sure.”

“You need anything?” Donna shakes her head. “Well, I’ve switched on the monitor so I’ll come in if he wakes up.” I assure her.

“Oh yeah?” Donna smirks. “You gonna handle the breastfeeding tonight?”

“Moral support.” I grin in reply.

“Come sit for a minute.” Donna pats the bed.

I hesitate before making my way over to her. “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable before…” Donna tells me.

“No. You didn’t.” I bite my lip and look away. “I just…I dunno.” I shake my head. Donna reaches out and places her hand reassuringly on my arm. “I don’t want to have kids with anyone else, Donna.”

Donna shakes her head. “You don’t know that.”

I cut her off. “Yes, I do.” I say adamantly.

“Josh…”

“I thought about it.” I tell her. “Before Ben. Before everything…” I pause and force myself to look her in the eye. “I thought about us having a family.”

I watch as a tear slides down Donna’s cheek. “Me too.” She admits sadly.

I pull her towards me and she burrows against my chest, her tears dampening my t-shirt. I throw my head back against the wall and squeeze my eyes tightly shut. My hands are tangled up in her hair as I clutch her head against me.

“I’m so sorry, Donna.” My voice catches.

We lay there together like that for a while, until her tears stop and it comes to a point where I’m just holding her without a good reason. But she doesn’t move from me, and I don’t loosen my grip. I simply stroke her hair gently and she rests the palm of her hand against my chest.

I take her in. Her smell, the warmth of her body, the way her breath rises and falls in time with mine.

It’s only when Ben starts crying from his bassinet that we begrudgingly unfurl ourselves.


	16. Chapter 16

_2 April 2007_

**Donna:**

“Josh.”

“Mmmm,” he barely looks up from the newspaper he’s reading.

“Stop tapping your foot.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” I narrow my gaze. “You’re fidgeting.”

“I’m not!” Josh exclaims.

“You are.” I give him a quizzical look. “Are you nervous?” I smirk.

“No!” he protests. “Of course not…”

I grin at him before looking down at Ben. “Your Daddy is all stressed out for his first day,” I coo as Ben stares up at me wide-eyed. “Yes, he is! He’s forgotten everything he knows about politics since you arrived!”

Ben gurgles and thrashes his limbs excitedly.

“Donna.” Josh glares at me.

“Relax! You’ll be fine.” I tell him as I stand up and pass him Ben. “Spare a thought for me, alone with the baby until you return in eighteen hours…”

Josh takes Ben from me and nestles him into his chest. “I’ll be home by six. Seven at the latest.” He assures me as he takes another gulp of coffee.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” I raise my eyebrows. “What are you doing today anyhow?”

Josh shrugs as he attempts to eat a bite of toast while cradling Ben. “Just tryna confirm a new Vice President. No biggie.” He tells me with his mouth full. “You?” He smirks.

I narrow my gaze. “Something far more meaningful and noble I’m sure…”

Josh grins and raises Ben to his shoulder. “You gonna be a good boy for Mommy?” he coos as he dots Ben’s head with kisses. “Huh? Benny boy?”

I grin as I watch them together, it’s a completely adorable scene. Well, that is until Ben promptly vomits all over Josh’s shirt and tie.

“Fuck!” Josh exclaims loudly, frightening Ben who then starts crying.

“Awww baby, did Daddy scare you?” I take Ben and start soothing him.

Josh is frantically dabbing at his shirt and tie with a cloth. “Jesus Christ, what have you been feeding that kid?!” He asks.

“Two guesses.” I say dryly. “You need a new shirt.”

“It’ll come out.” Josh starts wiping a little more strenuously.

“It won’t.” I tell him. “And even if it does, you’ll smell of baby spit up all day.” Josh groans and starts unfastening his tie. “Hold him.” I thrust Ben – now settled – into his arms, and make my way towards my bedroom, where Josh’s suits remain hanging in the closet.

“If this is gonna be a common occurrence I’m gonna need to invest in some more clothes.” Josh yells after me. “Or, stop holding the kid.”

“One of those seems more likely than the other.” I reply as I pick out a fresh shirt and matching tie.

I pause as I wander back out into the living room, because Josh – now shirtless – is bending down to place a smiley Ben into his bouncer, leaving me ample opportunity to ogle his muscular back without his knowledge. When he turns around I see that he has a wide grin on his face. “You know, I think he may have done that on purpose…” he tells me with a glint in his eye.

“Here.” I hold the shirt out to him and Josh slips in on.

I watch as he does the buttons up and, without thinking, instinctively drape the tie around his neck. Josh glances up at me quickly, before lifting his head and allowing me to knot his tie.

It feels oddly familiar.

It _is_ oddly familiar.

I wonder if Josh is remembering inauguration night too. I want to whisper ‘I won’t pull away this time’, but instead I tie a double Windsor and step back to survey my handiwork.

Since the night we both cried about my hysterectomy, we’ve been far more tactile with one another than is usual. Well, it is usual for us, I suppose. Josh and I used to be far too familiar with one another physically. I don’t just mean during the primaries, I mean back when we were in office and everywhere in between.

But for the past few months we’ve been awkwardly circling each other. Afraid of what the other might think if we so much as brush past them in the hall. Over the last few days though, that tension has dissipated, and in its place, the warm, butterflies in your stomach feeling that comes with having a crush.

“I have something for you.” I tell Josh as he slips on his suit jacket.

He furrows his brow. “You do?”

“Uh huh,” I say enthusiastically. I grab a small gift bag that I’ve hidden on the bookshelf and pass it to him. “To add to your collection…” I tell him as he lifts out a silver photo frame.

Josh beams. “Thank you,” he grins.

“I couldn’t pick, so I had a few photos printed.” I explain as I point out the envelope attached to the bag. “Last week Mom and Dad sent a me bunch of the photos they took.” Josh nods as he shuffles through the photographs. “I figured everyone at the office would want to ogle some baby pics.”

Josh grins at me. “Thanks Donna.” He steps forward and gently presses a kiss to my cheek.

**Josh:**

“And again, welcome back to my Chief of Staff.” President Santos announces. “We’re all very pleased to see you. Especially Sam...”

I laugh and Sam rolls his eyes. “Thank you, Mr President. It’s good to be back.” I smile.

“So, when do we get to meet the lil guy?” the President asks.

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” I grin.

“Well, we look forward to it. Anyway, that’s all from me folks. Have a good day and do some good!”

“Thank you, Mr President.” The Senior Staff chorus.

“Josh, we’re meeting this afternoon?” the President asks as I head towards my office door.

“Uh huh, four o’clock.” I confirm. “I’m catching up with Senior Staff individually this morning, so I hope to have a rough semblance of things by then.”

President Santos grins. “Great. Good luck with that. How does it feel to be back?”

I bite my lip. “Honestly? This feels like a walk in the park.” I admit.

“You think the West Wing is less intense than a new-born?”

“Less intense than a new-born with colic anyhow.”

“Ouch.” President Santos shoots me a sympathetic look.

“Mmmmhmm. It’s been rough.”

“I bet. How’s Donna doing?”

“Ah, she’s good. Recovering pretty well.” I look down. “She’s incredible with him, of course…”

“Feeling a little surplus to requirements?”

“You could say that.” I grin. “At least I have some value-add here.”

“This is cute. A family picture.” Amy’s holding the photo frame Donna gave me this morning. I put a photo of the three of us in it.

“Good looking boy, right?” I smirk.

“All babies look like wrinkly old men, don’t ya think?” I grimace and Amy places the photo back on my desk, a wicked grin stretched across her face. “How’s Donna?”

I let out a sigh. “Oh, you know…” I slump into my desk chair.

“Not really.”

I shrug. “She’s on the mend.” Amy nods at me. “She’s great with him.” I say a quieter voice.

“Scary stuff.” Amy folds her arms and studies me closely.

“Yeah.” Another sigh escapes me.

“You okay?” Amy asks as she takes a seat opposite me.

“Uh huh.”

“You sure?”

I feel one corner of my lip turn upwards. “No.” I admit.

I instantly regret displaying any vulnerability, because I’m well aware that Amy isn’t the best person for me to be confiding in. It seems she realises this too, but instead of delving any deeper she opts to change the subject. 

“Is it everything they say it is?” she questions.

I smile. “It is.” I confirm, before leaning forward on the desk, propping myself up on my elbows. “It’s also terrifying.” I grin.

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.” I swallow and look at the photo again.

“Shall I brief you on the education bill now?” Amy asks. “Or would you prefer to stare wistfully at that photo some more?”

I shift my gaze to Amy just long enough to register a glare.

I leave the office at precisely 6pm. Carol think I'm joking when I tell her that I’m done for the day. But I am done. I mean, I’m taking a few things home to read, but there’s nothing urgent that can’t wait until tomorrow. Believe me, those days are few and far between, so I intend on savouring this one.

Donna gives me a quizzical look when I walk in the door.

“Hey,” I grin as I throw my backpack on the floor and kick off my shoes.

“You’re early.”

“I’m right on time!” I tell her and she simply raises her eyebrows. “How was your day?”

“Long.” Donna sighs. “You?”

“I missed you guys.” I admit as I shrug off my suit jacket and toss it onto the couch.

Ben is lying naked on a sheepskin rug in the living room, wildly kicking his legs around.

“Hey nudie!” I coo as I lie down beside him. “How ya doing?”

“You just missed a _crazy_ diaper.” Donna laments.

I grin at her. “I’ll get the next one…”

“Uh huh.” Donna wanders into the kitchen. “I’m making salmon for dinner. You hungry now?”

“I could eat,” I shout in response. “You need a hand?”

“I’m okay. You just keep him occupied.” Donna tells me.

“Gladly.” I pick Ben up and rest him on my chest as I lay on the floor.

**Donna:**

I’m enjoying having a few precious minutes to myself, even if I am just cooking.

Having a new-born – specifically one that you’re breastfeeding – is like having an additional limb. Fifteen minutes with someone else watching him is a godsend. I can hear Josh watching the news in the living room and explaining the days’ political developments to Ben.

“You see the kind of incompetence Daddy has to put up with?” he tells Ben in a sweet voice. “Because of those Republican crackpots?”

Ben gurgles in response. Poor kid. With Josh Lyman for a dad, he will likely be debating fiscal policy on the school yard instead of playing kickball.

“You wanna get him ready for bed while I finish dinner?” I call.

“Sure,” Josh pulls himself up off the floor. “Hey Benny-boy, you wanna have a bath and then get in your jammies? Huh?”

I shake my head as I poke my head into the living room. “And they call him Bartlet’s Bulldog…” I mutter.

Josh grins at me. “You know, you could probably blackmail me with a recording of that...”

“You think I don’t already have enough dirt on you?” I smirk in reply.

Josh’s grin grows wider.

I head back into the kitchen and get back to cooking but I can still hear Josh narrating his actions to Ben.

“Shall we do bubbles? Huh? Let’s do bubbles!” I hear him say enthusiastically as he fills up the tub.

They’re still splashing around together ten minutes later.

“Dinner’s ready.” I tell Josh as I stand in the doorway.

“Come look,” Josh tells me. “He’s so relaxed.”

Ben has his eyes closed and a big smile on his face. “Oh my god, he’s too cute.” I coo.

Josh grins at me. “Can you grab a towel?” He asks before lifting Ben up to me and climbing out of the tub himself.

“You all cosy lil guy?” I whisper as I dry Ben off.

Ben snuggles into my chest and I carry him towards the nursery, Josh follows with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Rocketships or panda bears?” he asks as he peers into Ben’s dresser drawer.

I shrug as I fasten a fresh diaper onto Ben. “You choose.”

“Rockets.” Josh announces as he passes me to onesie. “China’s about to devalue the yuan…”

I roll my eyes. “Well, we certainly couldn’t have the White House Chief of Staff’s son wearing panda PJs then, could we Ben?”

Josh smirks and leans against the window frame as he watches me dress Ben. “You think he’ll go down?” he asks,

“Not without a feed.” I scoop Ben up and make my way back down the hall.

“You’ve gotta eat too.” Josh stresses as he follows close behind.

“That’s where you come in, my friend.” I smile at him over my shoulder. “Dinner’s ready. Can you dish?”

“Uh huh,” Josh agrees.

I make myself comfortable on the couch and Ben happily latches on for his own dinner. The TV’s still tuned to CNN and there seems to be a discussion about Josh returning to work.

“Hey, they’re talking about you on the news.” I yell.

“Anything bad?” Josh replies as he clangs about in the kitchen.

“Well, you’re back from parental leave so apparently the American people can now expect a more cohesive narrative and policy direction from the White House…” I tell him.

Josh walks in with two plates and glances briefly at the TV. “Huh, good luck to the American people…” he says dryly. “How are we doing this?” he asks eyeing my precarious situation confusedly.

“Plate goes here.” I tell him as I clear some space on the arm of the couch. “And you’re gonna have to cut my food up for me because I only have one hand.”

I can tell Josh is resisting the urge to say something sarcastic. “Okay.” He bites his lip and promptly starts cutting up my dinner.

“Thank you,” I beam as he balances my plate on the side of the couch and hands me a fork.

“Thank _you_ for cooking, and nourishing my offspring…”

I groan. “So, you’re a fan of baths now?” I smirk as I skilfully hold Ben with one hand and feed myself with the other.

Josh sits back against the sofa, his plate balanced on his knees. “Yes…” he replies.

“Interesting…”

“My back’s giving me hell. They seem to help.” Josh shrugs.

Josh’s back has been bad ever since Roslyn. Long hours hunched over his desk and his stubborn refusals to visit a chiropractor have only exacerbated the problem.

“The pull-out bed can’t be good for it.” I tell him. Josh simply shrugs again and continues eating, his eyes fixed firmly on the TV. “You wanna crash with me?” I ask nonchalantly.

Josh’s head quirks to me. “Sorry?”

I shrug. “You’re in there half the night anyhow…”

Josh narrows his gaze but doesn’t say anything.

Ben slept for about an hour – which allowed me time to call my Mom and take a shower, but now he’s awake and hungry again. Josh is sitting with me in the bedroom while I feed him.

“Do you want to go away this weekend?” he asks suddenly.

I glance at him strangely. “What?”

“It’s Easter. Four-day weekend.” Josh tells me.

“I’m aware.”

“I was talking to President Bartlet earlier,” Josh continues.

“Uh huh.” I lift Ben to my shoulder and start burping him.

“He said we should come up to the farm this weekend. Visit him and Abbey.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, their kids are already sick of them so they’re alone for Easter.”

I shrug. “Flying with a new-born?” I raise my eyebrows.

“It’s a short flight.” Josh reasons. “And you know, it works out with the Secret Service and everything…”

Josh is not wrong. The Bartlets are the only other ‘friends’ we have – well, aside from the Santos’ – with a permanent detail. While visiting other friends and family would take weeks of pre-approval and planning, a trip to New Hampshire to stay with the former first family is the one vacation we can take spontaneously.

“You don’t need to be in town for work?” I ask as I rub Ben’s back.

Josh shakes his head. “The President’s gonna be in Texas with his family. He wants everyone to take a break.”

“Alright.” I nod.

“I can book the tickets?” Josh asks excitedly.

“Go ahead,” I grin and Josh leaps to his feet, before stalling in the doorway and walking back over to me. “What?” I ask.

Josh leans over me and hesitates before placing a brief kiss on the top of my head. He pulls away slightly, leaving our faces close. I gulp and look up at him and he brings his hand to my cheek. I feel myself angle my face towards his and slowly my brush my lips over his.

Josh softly returns the kiss, before pulling back and taking a breath. He looks down at Ben, still feeding in my arms, and places a brief kiss on his head, before turning and walking away.

I watch him walk out of the room and wonder what the hell just happened.

**Josh:**

“Okay, we’re all booked.” I announce as I walk back into the bedroom.

Donna’s tucking Ben into his bassinet. “Okay great,” she says quietly.

I make my way over to them and grin as I watch Ben yawn. “When do we transition him to the crib?” I ask.

“In a month or two. When he’s sleeping for longer periods.” Donna replies.

“Okay,” I’ll take her word for it, I’m kind of flying blind here and following Donna’s lead on all things baby-related has worked out so far.

Donna brushes past me and makes her way to the bathroom. I find myself eagerly following her.

“You feel up to bringing him into work this week?” I ask as she puts a blob of toothpaste onto her toothbrush.

Donna shrugs and starts brushing her teeth. “I’m feeling good, Josh.” She mumbles.

“Okay,” I grin. “Maybe tomorrow after lunch?” I suggest.

Donna nods and continues brushing.

I lean against the tiled wall and fold my arms, still watching her closely. “Were you serious before?” Donna gives me a strange look. “About crashing with you…” I explain.

Donna leans over and spits in the sink. “Is your back still sore?” I nod slowly and Donna resumes brushing. “Then you should probably be sleeping in a proper bed.” She tells me when she pauses to spit into the basin.

“It’s not weird?” I ask.

The brief kiss we shared earlier this evening is still running through my mind on repeat. I’m not exactly sure what compelled me to do that. It just felt right.

Donna finishes brushing and shrugs her shoulders. “The offer’s there, Josh.” She says as she walks out of the bathroom.

I hang my head and feel myself fidgeting nervously.

Fuck it.

I decide to follow her into the bedroom. She’s leaning over Ben’s bassinet, checking he’s okay.

I unbutton my shirt and take off my pants, leaving myself clad in my boxers and undershirt. Donna turns and eyes me amusedly, before pulling back the covers and slipping into bed.

“Can you get the light?” she asks.

I wordlessly comply, then I pad over to my side of the bed and settle in between the covers.

“Goodnight,” Donna says sweetly.

“Night.” I whisper as my heart beats erratically in my chest.

_3 April 2007_

Ben only woke twice in the night – once for a feed and once for a diaper change – but both times he stirred, Donna and I woke to find we were cuddling. We didn’t say anything about it. I mean, there’s not much time to dwell on things when there’s a baby crying, but I’ve just woken up to find her nestled into me yet again.

I know my alarm’s about to go off, but I don’t want to break apart from her just yet. Her hair is in my face and her hand is grasping onto my forearm. I breathe her in and fight the urge to kiss her neck. Instead, with my free hand, I lightly graze my fingers along her shoulder, revelling in the tiny goose bumps that form in my wake. I sigh as she arches back against me and have to bite my lip to stop myself crying out. I push myself a little closer to her, pressing my lips to the back of neck.

I’m startled by a whimper from Ben, and I quickly lift my head and peer over Donna’s shoulder at the little figure squirming in the bassinet. It looks like Ben’s gearing up for a great big howl.

I throw the covers back and yawn as I walk over to him. “Hey, hey, quiet down. Your Mommy’s still sleeping.” I gently scoop Ben into my arms and place a kiss on his head. “Did you have a good sleep? Hey?” I jiggle him back and forth.

“Josh?” I hear Donna call in a sleepy voice.

I turn to her and smile shyly. “Hey,” I say quietly.

“Hey,” a bashful smile of her own is stretched across her face.

“I think someone’s ready for their breakfast.” I tell her as I rock Ben.

Donna smiles tiredly. “Yeah,” she yawns as I bring him over to her.

I try to avert my gaze as Donna tugs her t-shirt over her head, leaving her shirtless before me. She takes Ben from my arms and places him next to her chest, so they’re both laying down comfortably while he feeds.

“What’s the time?” she asks once Ben is settled.

“Um, nearly six.” I reply. I’m feeling awkward as I hover above them. “Do you want some coffee?” I recently succumbed to her decaf requests. It seems Donna always gets her own way in the end. Hell, I’m even the one bringing her the coffee now.

Donna shakes her head before glancing down at our son. “He had a good night,” she remarks.

“Yeah.”

“How about you?” she asks as she peers up at me.

I feel a grin coming on. “I had a good night too.” I confirm and Donna smiles up at me knowingly.

I should be jumping in the shower about now, but instead I find myself slinking back into the bed. There’s something about this moment, something about lying next to Donna, with our son in-between, that just feels right. I feel myself move a little closer to the two of them. I’m lying on my side, and Donna’s on hers. We’re face-to-face. I extend my hand and let it rest on Donna’s bare hip. She glances at me and smiles another shy smile.

“Thank you,” I tell her quietly.

“For what?”

I shrug. “Everything.”


	17. Chapter 17

_3 April 2007_

**Donna:**

“Oh my goodness!” Carol squeals when she spots Ben and I walking towards her desk. She leaps to her feet and clasps her hands to her chest. “He’s adorable!”

I laugh and tilt the canopy of the pram further back. “Well, he’s sleeping right now. You might not find him so adorable when he wakes up…”

Carol is smiling from ear to ear. “It’s so good to see you, both of you!” She tells me as she throws her arms around me. “And you look incredible! I don’t know how you do it.”

“Hey!” I hear another excited voice behind me.

“Hi Ronna,” I grin as she peeks her head into the pram.

“Oh wow,” Ronna exclaims. “He’s so precious!”

I smile broadly. “Yeah, I think so.” I agree.

“I’m sure Josh has told you just how much we’ve been dying to meet him,” says Ronna.

“That’s true,” Carol remarks. “But, I think Josh has been pretty eager to show him off too.” She quirks her eyebrows at me. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“How are you feeling?” Ronna asks, a look of concern evident on her face.

“I’m okay,” I assure her but Ronna smiles a little unconvincingly. “I’m getting there,” I rephrase.

Ronna nods. “Well, it’s great to see you.”

“Where’s my boy?!” I hear Josh exclaim excitedly as he dashes out of his office.

“He’s asleep.” I whisper and Josh’s face falls.

“Oh.” He grimaces as he peeks into the pram. “Hey,” he says remembering himself, he leans over to give me a peck on the cheek.

“Hey,” I reply as I attempt to hide my broad smile. “He should be up soon.” I assure him.

“Hmmm,” Josh frowns.

“Oh, go on then,” I roll my eyes.

Josh wastes no time in scooping sound-asleep Ben from the pram.

Despite his rude awakening, it takes little time for Ben to cheer up once he realises he’s safe in Josh’s arms.

“This is Daddy’s office,” Josh explains as he strides around the room. “This is where I have to come every day, even though I’d rather be hanging out with you.” I can’t help but grin as I watch them together. “How was your morning?” Josh asks as I take a seat in one of his visitor chairs.

I shrug. “Fine,” I tell him. “I mean, the highlight was when Petra showed up...” Petra’s our housekeeper, and the only regular adult interaction I have aside from Josh and our Secret Service agents. Josh laughs at me. “It’s not actually funny, it’s kind of sad.” I insist. “I think she felt like I was holding her hostage. I kept insisting that she stay and have another cup of coffee with me...”

Josh grins. “You may actually be losing your mind, Donnatella.”

“I know,” I roll my eyes. “I need to get out more.”

“Easier said than done with a detail,” Josh laments.

I shrug my shoulders. I don’t really want to complain about the Secret Service, because I know how much Josh hates the fact he has imposed them on Ben and I.

“Photo frame looks good.” I smile at Josh and don’t even attempt to hide my great pleasure at the fact he selected to showcase a picture of the three of us.

Josh grins at me. “Yeah, I’ve been getting lots of compliments.”

“I’m sure,” I smirk in response.

“Shall we go through?” Josh asks as he strides towards the door that connects his office with Oval.

“Um…” I don’t really know why, but I’m incredibly nervous. Being away from the White House for so long has made this place feel like hallowed ground.

Josh senses my hesitation. “C’mon, it’ll be fine.” He urges before rapping his knuckles on the door.

“Hey!” President Santos bounds over to us. “Here he is! The littlest Lyman!”

Josh beams as President Santos peers down at Ben.

“How ya doing, Donna?” President Santos kisses me on the cheek. “You look great,” he smiles.

“Thank you, Mr President.” I smile in response. “I’m feeling good.”

“You wanna hold him?” Josh asks.

The President nods excitedly. “Of course, hand him over!” The President coos as he plucks Ben from Josh's arms. “Hi Ben, how ya doing lil guy?” 

Ben stares up at President Santos with wide eyes. “Starstruck,” Josh grins.

The President rolls his eyes. “I’m sure,” he grins.

“You looks good with him though. I reckon we could secure a second term in a heartbeat if you started campaigning with a baby in your arms…” Josh smirks.

“Don’t you let my wife hear you talking like that. The two we’ve got are a handful enough…” President Santos peers towards the doorway where Ronna is watching on adoringly. “Speaking of which…” he mutters. “Ronna, you should probably let Helen’s office know that there’s a very important visitor here.”

“Donna, you look amazing!” Helen tells me as she wraps me into a warm hug. “How are you feeling?”

“Thanks, Helen. I’m okay.” I assure her. She smiles warmly before returning her attention to Ben.

“Do I get a hold?” she asks the President, who feigns annoyance before carefully transferring Ben to her. “Oh my goodness. He’s so tiny. You forget how tiny they are…” she marvels at him. “He looks like you, Josh.”

Josh grins. “I know.”

“No, seriously. He looks just like you.” Helen grins. “Oh my god, he’s absolutely gorgeous.” She snuggles Ben tightly.

“Okay, definitely don’t mention that thing you said earlier…” I hear the President whisper to Josh.

“So tell me, how’s everything going?” Helen asks as she settles into the sofa and reluctantly takes her eyes off Ben.

“We’re good. Everything’s going well.” I reply.

“Josh tells me you guys are suffering through the dreaded colic…” the President says with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “Hardly ideal, but we’re coping.”

“Miranda had it. It about drove me up the wall…”

“I recall you spending a lot of time at the office…” Helen tells him with a raised eyebrow. “I hope you’re keeping more reasonable hours now, than you were before Ben’s arrival.” She tells Josh pointedly.

“He is,” I assure Helen on Josh’s behalf.

“Good, because it can get pretty lonely on your own with a colicky new-born.” 

“We were just talking about that actually.” Josh replies.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I dunno, I think I need to join some groups or something,” I tell Helen. “It’s just hard with the detail…”

Helen sighs. “I bet.”

“Are we getting some photos taken?” the President leaps to his feet and bounds over to the door. “Ronna? You got a photographer out there?”

“Gotta immortalise the little guy’s first time in the Oval.” Josh grins at me.

I smirk. “I’m sure it won’t be the last…”

Josh smiles broadly in response.

“First time meeting the President too,” says Helen.

“Just the first of two he’ll meet this week.” Josh tells her proudly.

“We’re heading up to New Hampshire for the Easter break.” I explain.

“Really?” President Santos looks surprised.

“He’s incredibly bored.” Josh grins.

President Santos laughs. “Oh, I’m sure he is.”

The White House photographer begins by taking photos of Ben with the President and First Lady, then a couple of shots of Ben and the President, one of the President, Josh and Ben, then a group photo of all of us.

Just as I think we’re all done I hear the President propose a ‘family photo’, and I feel my cheeks instantly flush. The President and First Lady step out of frame, and I feel Josh – who’s holding Ben – slink an arm around my waist and tug me towards him.

“Alright, big smiles all!” The photographer urges. I don’t need any convincing to comply. Josh is holding me tightly, our son nestled in his arms, as we pose in front of the resolute desk. My life is insane, but in all the best ways.

After half an hour of baby snuggles and chit-chat, the President and Josh reluctantly headed off to a Cabinet meeting. I was preparing to leave for home, but Helen – clearly enamoured with Ben – instead suggested that I come up to the Residence for coffee.

So now, I’m sitting in the First Family’s kitchen helping Miranda Santos with her homework while Helen fawns over Ben.

“I think I’ll need colouring pencils for this next part,” Miranda tells me as she leaps off her chair. “I’ll be right back!” She assures me as she races down the hall.

“Thanks Donna,” Helen tells me sympathetically. “Sorry, she can be rather insistent…”

“Oh, it’s fine,” I smile as I take a sip of coffee. “Honestly, it’s a relief to be using my brain – even if it is only for first grade homework.”

Helen grins. “Kids are great, but I found I always needed something else to keep me occupied too.”

“How does being First Lady measure up?” I ask.

Helen shrugs. “I wouldn’t have chosen to do this sort of thing myself,” she admits. “But it’s fine, I guess. I just don’t feel like I’m using the role in the way I really want to.”

“You want to be more political?” I ask her.

“No,” Helen sighs. “Maybe. I don’t really know. I don’t want to step on Matt’s toes, but I also don’t want to keep going to afternoon tea with boring women…”

I smirk. “Those have been your engagements to date?”

“Basically,” Helen groans. “I appear to have a team who are rather hesitant to venture off course…”

I smile sympathetically. “You’re the boss, Helen. You set the course.”

“All in good time.” Helen tells me. “Right now, I think I just want to help Matt and the kids settle in. But in six months or so I think I need to consider exactly what I want to accomplish while I have this platform.”

“How are they settling in?” I ask.

Helen shrugs. “Miranda’s fine,” she smiles. “She loves the attention. Peter’s become even more quiet than usual. I think it’s all pretty overwhelming for him. And Matt’s just Matt, you know? He takes it all in his stride. Although he was decidedly off his stride with Josh away…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Helen smiles. “He really trusts him.”

I smile proudly. “That’s good.”

“How’s Josh doing?” Helen asks.

Miranda makes an exuberant return to the kitchen table which provides me with a few precious seconds to centre myself. “How do you mean?” I ask once my mojo returns.

“You know, the adjustment to fatherhood, and returning to the White House. Especially without Leo here…” Helen shrugs.

I bite my lip. “He’s great,” I tell her. “A little overwhelmed by the baby, but doing well. I think the White House is actually the one place where he feels a semblance of control.”

“Yeah?” Helen looks surprised. “That’s good to hear, because I think Matt is having his fair share of self-doubt at the moment. He leans pretty heavily on Josh.”

“That’s how the President-Chief of Staff relationship is supposed to work.” I assure Helen.

“Does Josh talk about work?” Helen asks.

I shrug. “Honestly, we don’t talk about much beyond the baby right now.” I admit. “And, we kind of had this stupid rule about not discussing politics during the primaries…”

Helen laughs. “I don’t imagine Josh was great at abiding by that…”

I grin. “Yeah, not so much. Part of the reason things panned out the way they did, I guess.”

Helen bites her lip. “Miranda, honey, let’s finish your homework later. Why don’t you grab a juice box and go watch cartoons with your brother.”

“Okay.” Miranda takes little convincing and races away happily.

Helen turns back to me. “Donna, if you don’t mind me asking, how exactly have things panned out?”

I shrug and look down at my empty mug. “We’re not together. At the moment.”

“Do you think might get together at some point?” Helen questions.

“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “I think there’s still a lot of water that needs to go under the bridge…” I pause and look away. “About eight years’ worth, in fact.” I shake my head.

I’m surprised that Helen and I are being so candid with one another. We’ve barely spent any time together, but it feels like I’m catching up with an old friend I haven’t seen in a while. The conversation just flows so easily and I can tell she’s passing no judgements.

Helen smiles warmly at me. “You know Josh is about the smartest guy I’ve ever met. He’s a political force to be reckoned with. He put my husband in the White House…” Helen trails off and shakes her head in disbelief. “I find it _wild_ that he is so utterly brainless when it comes to you.”

I flush a little and shake my head. “Yeah, well, I’m not completely without blame either.” I assure Helen.

Helen smirks and looks down at Ben who is growing restless in her arms. “I think this wee guy is hungry,” she tells me. “You must be too, Donna. How about you guys stay for dinner?”

**Josh:**

“You sure you’re good with this?” President Santos asks as we make our way up to the residence.

I furrow my brow. “Yeah, of course.” I insist. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugs. “I dunno,” he admits. “I have a feeling Helen might be matchmaking,” he grins.

“Hardly a blind date when you already have a kid together,” I retort and President Santos chuckles as he opens the door.

“Hey! I’m home!” He announces before turning and frowning at me. “Y’know, once upon a time that would’ve resulted in two toddlers tackling me. Now they barely look up from the TV.”

I grin and follow him towards the kitchen. “Hey buddy,” I coo at Ben who is laying contently in Donna’s arms. He starts to excitedly thrash around when he spots me and I snatch him from Donna and shower him with kisses. “You miss me?” I ask as he giggles.

“Enjoy that while it lasts…” The President remarks. “Where are our ankle biters?” he asks Helen.

“Watching _The Wild Thornberrys_.” Helen replies as she stirs a bubbling pot. “You wanna grab them? Dinner’s almost ready.”

“¡Niños, bajen! La cena está lista!” The President yells loudly in Spanish and Helen glares at him.

“I coulda done that,” she groans, but he simply grins at her before giving her a sly kiss.

“Josh, you want a glass of wine?” The President asks as he opens the refrigerator.

“I’m good actually,” I reply as I take a seat next to Donna.

Donna frowns. “Please. Let me live vicariously through you…”

“Oh alright then,” I relent as I snuggle Ben.

“Daaaaad, Peter’s being mean to me!” Miranda Santos whines as she walks into the kitchen.

The President turns and smirks at me. “Isn’t that like almost verbatim what the Pakistani Prime Minister said this morning?” he asks.

I chuckle. “Calming international disputes isn’t dissimilar to managing sibling rivalries…”

Miranda suddenly turns her attention to me and furrows her brow.

“Are you gonna say hello to Mr Lyman?” Helen asks.

Miranda folds her arms. “You’re Ben’s Dad?!” she exclaims before snapping her head to Donna. “ _He’s_ Ben’s Dad?!”

Donna grins. “Uh huh,” she confirms.

“But, he’s so grumpy all the time!” Miranda announces.

Donna and President Santos erupt into laughter. Helen bites her lip and glares disapprovingly at her husband.

“Josh can be fun,” Donna insists but Miranda doesn’t look convinced.

“Miranda Grace Santos, go wash up for dinner.” Helen urges in a serious tone.

“Oh my god,” I mutter softly once Miranda’s out of earshot.

“Sorry, Josh.” Helen tells me, but it’s hard to take her seriously because she soon joins Donna and the President in a chorus of laughter.

**Donna:**

I think I was in _desperate_ need of a night out of the house, because I’m literally still grinning from ear to ear. Plus I spent the entire car ride home blabbering incessantly to Josh about just how incredible the First Lady is and how I haven’t had that much fun in ages...

I can tell that Josh is trying hard not to laugh at me. “I’m glad you had a good time,” he tells me with a tell-tale smirk on his face.

“I know what you’re thinking!” I goad him. “But trust me, after a few days alone in the house with a baby you’d take whatever you could get too.”

Josh smirks and sets the baby carrier down on the dining table so he can unbuckle Ben. “He’s wrecked,” he laughs as he plucks a very sleepy Ben out of his capsule.

“Too much excitement for one day,” I lean over to kiss Ben’s head. “Straight to bed, I think.”

“I think that’s a good idea for all of us,” Josh tells me as he starts walking towards my bedroom.

I follow him down the hall. “So, Helen said that I should come over for coffee once we’re back from New Hampshire…” Josh quirks his eyebrows at me. “I think we’re friends now.” I tell him in a tone that does little to mask my surprise.

“Okay,” Josh grins and bites his lip.

“What?” I urge him.

“Nothing…” Josh brushes past me and walks into the bedroom.

“Tell me!” I plead as I follow him. “Do you think it’s weird?”

Josh shrugs and places Ben in his bassinet. “It’s not weird. You two have a lot in common,” he pauses and a wicked grin stretches across his face. “For instance, you both have children with incredibly powerful men…”

I roll my eyes and watch as Josh kisses Ben’s head before setting off towards the bathroom. “Helen’s great,” I announce as I trail after him.

“I know.” Josh begins brushing his teeth and hands me the tube of toothpaste so I can start too. It's weird how in-sync we are sometimes. 

“She thinks the world of you.” I continue.

Josh screws up his face confusedly. “Really?!” He splutters before hoicking into the sink and wiping his mouth with his shirtsleeve. I nod fervently as I start to brush my teeth. “Huh,” Josh looks genuinely surprised.

“What?” I nudge him with my elbow.

He shrugs again. “Nothing. Helen just wasn’t a huge fan of mine when we first met. And I haven’t put a hell of a lot of effort into convincing her that I’m not an arrogant asshole…”

“Oh, don’t worry, she still think you’re an arrogant asshole, just an arrogant asshole with a heart.” I smirk.

Josh rolls his eyes and takes a seat on the edge of the bathtub, watching me closely as he removes his tie and starts unbuttoning his shirt. “They’re good people.” He tells me.

I smile. “I know.” Josh wouldn’t be working for Santos if he wasn’t a good person.

Josh nods. “Tonight was fun.”

“You sound surprised.”

Josh shrugs and pulls himself onto his feet before collecting his discarded shirt and tie and making his way into the bedroom. “Pleasantly surprised,” he calls.

I finish brushing and join him in the bedroom. He’s clad only in his boxers now and is pulling down the bed covers. I lean against the door jamb and grin at him. “What exactly do you mean, Joshua?”

Josh shrugs as he settles beneath the covers. “I dunno. Kinda felt like a double date, don’t ya think?”

I laugh at him and make my way over to Ben’s bassinet. “He’s sound asleep,” I tell Josh.

“I’m not far off myself,” yawns Josh and I smile broadly at him. “Come to bed,” he urges.

_5 April 2007_

“All packed?” Josh asks as he wanders into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“I think so,” I lean back and study my open suitcase. “We’re away for three nights and this is how much luggage we’re taking…” I groan. It turns out that travelling with a baby is incredibly hard work and this is just the packing phase. I'm beginning to start to dread what awaits us tomorrow when we actually hit the road.

“Plus the stroller and the car seat,” Josh grins as he rifles through a pile of laundry. “Aha!” He announces as he pulls out a t-shirt. “I’ve been looking for this everywhere.”

I laugh as I watch him excitedly throw on his tattered _The Cure_ t-shirt. “Yeah, I stole that one.” I remind him.

Josh grins. “I remember,” he tells me as he pulls his boxer shorts on and tosses his towel in the hamper. “So, flight’s at 11. The agents want us to leave for the airport around 9am.” Josh tells me as saunters towards Ben’s bassinet.

“Okay,” I nod.

“He’s sleeping well,” Josh remarks as he studies our drowsy son.

“Growth spurt,” I tell him as I pull myself to my feet.

“I thought he just had one,” Josh gives me a confused look.

“They have about eight in the first year, Josh.” I smirk.

“Right,” Josh runs a hand through his hair. “You ready for bed?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” I untie my dressing gown and toss it over an armchair, before turning to look at Josh as he pulls the covers back.

“What?” he asks when he catches me staring.

I shake my head. “Nothing,” I tell him, before biting my lip. “This is nice.”

Josh beams at me. “Yeah?”

This bed sharing arrangement has only been in place since Monday evening, but it already feels so normal.

“Yeah,” I walk towards my side of the bed. “Going to bed together. It’s kinda like old times.”

Josh grins and watches me slip under the covers. “Yeah,” he replies. “I like it.”

I rest my head on the pillow but keep my gaze fixed on Josh’s. “Me too.” I whisper.

I watch as Josh jaw clenches a little and I feel myself flush under his intense stare.

“Donna…” he says in a small voice. I don’t reply, I just continue to peer into his brown eyes. I watch as Josh swallows a gulp and inches his body closer to mine. I feel a hand come to rest on my hip, and another settle on my cheek. The tips of Josh’s fingers begin to lightly caress the sensitive skin of my neck. “Donna.” He says again, and this time I angle my head towards him in a silent show of approval. Josh takes the hint and brings his lips down to meet mine. I feel my body ignite as our kiss deepens. We both become more eager, more insistent, more desperate for one another.

I’m on my back now, with Josh straddling me. His hands roaming freely under my pajamas. I tug at his t-shirt and our lips break apart for a second so I can pull the garment over his head. We immediately return to kissing and I can hear myself moaning into Josh’s mouth. His hands are working energetically, but with a sense of delicacy too. I can tell he’s being cautious, so as not to hurt me. Our bodies are agonisingly close but he is refusing to put any weight on me, clearly cognisant of the near-healed incision on my abdomen.

“Josh,” I hear myself say as his lips relocate to my neck, my ear lobe, my collarbone…

“Are you okay?” he asks breathlessly. “Is this okay?” He pulls himself back in order to measure my reaction.

I nod fervently and watch as Josh’s face lights up. “Don’t stop.” I tell him as I tug down his boxer shorts. Josh grins at me and I feel his hand move towards my own underwear, his fingers tickling my thighs as he makes his way to my aching centre. “Don’t stop.” I tell him again as he makes contact with my clit. Josh’s grin grows wider as he feels my wetness and he suddenly yanks my panties down, before returning his hand to where I’m dying for it to stay.

It takes an embarrassingly minimal amount of time for an orgasm to overwhelm my body. Josh snickers as I gasp heavy breaths against him and my tense muscles begin to relax. “Having fun?” he asks as he dots kisses along my neck.

“You now.” I pant as I suddenly grasp at his stiff cock.

Josh bites his lip and sits up a little. “You sure?” he asks as he positions himself before me.

“Yes.” I confirm but Josh continues to hesitate. “Please.” I beg.

Josh slowly – _agonisingly slowly_ – begins to push into me. “Fuck.” He mutters as he enters me fully. I start to buck against him, but Josh stills and holds me in place. “Jesus, Donna, you’re gonna be the death of me.” He takes a deep breath and centres himself before beginning to thrust. I laugh at him and wrap my arms around his neck, drawing him close so I can kiss his mouth again.

It feels surreal to be this close to one another again. I didn’t know how much I needed this type of intimacy. My heart is beating wildly in my chest and I’m clutching Josh so, so closely. This isn’t sex. This isn’t unmeaningful. This is us making love. I’m not the only one feeling the emotion, Josh is staring down at me, seemingly unable to tear his eyes away. He’s breathing heavily now. I can tell he’s close.

“It’s okay,” I urge him. “It’s okay.”

Josh bites his lip before leaning forward to kiss me again. “Donna…” He begins to say as he pulls away.

“I know.” I interrupt him. “It’s okay, Josh. I know.” I tell him insistently.

Josh gasps another laboured breath and throws his head against my shoulder, crying out as he comes inside me. I run my fingers up and down his spine as he steadies himself and I feel him press his lips against the base of my throat. I let my hand wander up his neck to his dark curls, now damp with perspiration.

“You good?” I ask as I feel him pull away.

Josh collapses on his back beside me. “Mmmhmm,” he replies, his brown eyes are squeezed close and he searches for my hand with his own, clutching it tightly when he finds it before bringing it up to his chest. “So good,” he smiles before pulling hand to his mouth and kissing it affectionately. “And you, Donnatella?” he opens his eyes and studies me.

I smile happily. “Mmmhmm.” I reply as I nestle into the crook of his arm. “So good.” I concur.


	18. Chapter 18

_7 April 2007_

**Donna:**

“This really is the strangest thing to witness.” Abbey Bartlet tells me as she stares on in amazement.

I grin. “I know. It’s been months now and I still find it weird sometimes.”

“I didn’t even think he had any skills beyond politics…” Abbey smirks.

Josh looks up from the diaper he’s changing. “You know I can hear everything you’re saying, right?”

“Oh yes, we know, dear,” Abbey replies in a cherry tone. Josh rolls his eyes and returns to the task at hand. “Let’s leave him to it, shall we?” Mrs Bartlet suggests and we make our way towards to living room where President Bartlet is reading the morning papers.

“Good morning, Donnatella!” He beams. “Sleep well?”

“Very well, thank you sir,” I reply.

“Now, Donna, what did we tell you…” Mrs Bartlet admonishes.

“Sorry,” I smile. “I just don’t think I’ll get used to calling you guys Jed and Abbey.”

“This guy might…” Josh announces as he walks in with Ben on his hip.

“Ah, here he is. My favourite Lyman!” Jed announces as he tosses his newspaper to one side. “Let me take him off your hands,” he insists.

“Everybody wants him when he has a clean diaper…” Josh mutters as he hands Ben over and takes a seat next to me.

“Well, Ben can call us whatever he wants,” Abbey continues. “Preferably Grandpa and Grandma, though. If that’s okay with you two.”

Josh shrugs. “The more grandparents the merrier,” he assures Abbey.

“Well, the more grandchildren the merrier from our perspective.” Jed smiles as he snuggles Ben.

“We’ll be getting another one any day now,” Abbey tells us. “Ellie’s about to pop!”

“Oh, that’s exciting!” I smile. “Do they know what they’re having?”

Abbey shakes her head. “Nope. Total surprise.”

“Much like the pregnancy…” Jed says under his breath.

“You’re really in the wrong company to be dissing unplanned babies,” Josh smirks and I slap his arm playfully. “Ow!” He exclaims.

“That was well and truly deserved…” Abbey tells Josh pointedly. “As for you,” she turns to Jed and shakes her head but he simply grins cheekily at her.

“So, you’ll head to Baltimore once the baby’s born?” I ask, attempting to get the conversation back on track.

“That’s the plan,” Abbey tells me. “But you know Ellie, she doesn’t want a fuss...” I nod understandingly and Abbey leaps to her feet. “Right, why don’t we go make some breakfast and then figure out what we’re going to do today…” Abbey strolls towards the kitchen and I follow happily, leaving the ‘boys’ to mind the baby and talk politics.

Today is the first full day of our mini-vacation and I’m already feeling quite relaxed. Being cooped up in an apartment in Georgetown – especially one under Secret Service guard – is rather suffocating. The Bartlet’s farm in lush New Hampshire is a welcome respite and I’m growing increasingly thankful that Josh suggested we go on this little getaway.

Jed and Abbey are great hosts. They’re incredibly welcoming and make just the right amount of fuss, while still giving us room to enjoy some ‘family’ time together.

We flew in last night, but, as predicted, flying and then taking a long car drive with a two-month-old was far from straightforward, so Josh and I were both pretty tired and cranky when we arrived at the farm. Jed and Abbey leapt straight into ‘grandparent mode’ and insisted on watching Ben for a couple of hours while Josh and I rested up. But, well, with Ben off our hands for a while, we both found a sudden burst of energy…

There are no firm plans for how we will spend this weekend, other than attending church with Bartlet’s on Easter Sunday – which Josh has reluctantly agreed to. But, other than that, we’re just going to be relaxing.

**Josh:**

President Bartlet’s limp is more pronounced these days. He looks older too. I guess the decline is more apparent to me because I missed the last year he was in office.

“You hear much from Toby?”

I shrug. “It’s complicated,” I reply before taking another sip of my scotch. We’ve snuck off to his den for a post-dinner nightcap while Donna and Abbey bath Ben.

President Bartlet nods for me to continue and I hear myself let out a sigh. “We talk sometimes. On the phone.” I run a hand through my hair. “I can’t really catch up with him other than that.”

“He’s been pardoned now.” President Bartlet tilts his head at me expectantly.

“It doesn’t matter. One photo of us together puts the Santos administration in a difficult spot.” I let out a sigh I didn’t know I was holding in.

President Bartlet nods, but I know he already knew all of that. He was just checking in. “So, you catch up with him in eight years then?” he prods.

I chuckle. “God, who knows. Something like that...”

President Bartlet smiles and places his glass on the side table. “So, tell me, how are you feeling, Josh?”

I furrow my brow. “How do you mean, Mr President.” President Bartlet quirks his lip. “Jed.” I correct myself.

His question makes me think of Leo, mainly because it was the same question Leo asked me once a day, without fail, after I was diagnosed with PTSD. I wonder if Jed’s trying to fill the father-shaped void that Leo’s death has left in my life.

“Without Leo,” Jed confirms.

I glance away. “I’m just trying to get on with the job,” I tell him before shaking my head. “Well, most of the job. I don’t think I’m really pushing quite as hard to confirm a new VP as I should be.”

“No one else compares,” Jed says sadly and I sigh again. Truer words were never spoken. “You want a cigar?” Jed asks. “I’ve got some stashed away somewhere around here…”

I shake my head. “No. Thanks though.”

Jed sighs. “Abbey woulda killed me anyhow,” he admits with a gleam in his eye.

I grin and throw the rest of my scotch back, trying not to flinch as it burns my throat. “Another?” I ask as I jump to my feet. Jed nods and I grab the bottle and refill our glasses before settling back into the worn leather chair across from him.

“Leo would’ve been thrilled about Ben,” Jed tells me.

“You think?”

Jed shrugs. “Of course,” he insists. “He was mad about kids.”

I grin as I recall Leo’s insistence at showing off pictures of Mallory’s son at every opportunity. “Maybe you’re right. But, then again, we’ll never know, will we?” I hold my glass up to Jed. “C'est la vie.” I toast morosely.

“I’m always right.” Jed insists.

I smirk. “Of course.”

“Joshua, did it ever strike you as odd that nobody was at all surprised that you and Donna Moss were romantically involved?”

I feel myself tense at the out-of-the-blue question. “How do you mean?” I stammer.

“The fact that she was pregnant was surprising, I suppose. But not the fact that you two were together.” Jed ponders, his gaze wandering around the room.

I feel my lip snarl upwards. “We’re weren’t…” I start but Jed’s attention suddenly snaps back to me and he holds up a hand to silence me.

“I don’t want to get into that,” he says assuredly. “That’s not what I was angling at.”

My throat burns again as I swallow another swig from my glass. “I thought you might disapprove.”

“Of what?”

“Me knocking up Donna without a ring.” Jed stills me with a disapproving stare. “Sorry. That was crass.” I shake my head.

“It’s not my job to pass judgement, Josh.”

“She wouldn’t marry me,” I tell him quickly as if I’m trying to make an excuse for my behaviour.

“I’m not surprised,” Jed tells me and I quirk my head at him, hurt written across my face. “Donna’s a romantic, Josh.” He explains.

I bite my lip. “Uh huh.”

“You’re a good father,” Jed tells me, but I shrug and look away. “You are. I always knew you would be if you had the opportunity. And I had a feeling there might be an opportunity with Donna…”

“Right.” I take a deep breath. “Well, this probably wasn’t how you pictured it. This isn’t how anyone would’ve pictured it.” I grimace.

“Joshua, don’t go getting caught up in the details. You have a beautiful son. He has a wonderful mother. You are an incredibly fortunate man.”

I look away and focus my attention on the crackling fire. “I know,” I say quietly.

Jed pauses and I can tell he’s trying to get me to meet his eye again. “Josh?” he calls.

“Mmmhmm.” I refuse to look at him.

“Donna has been through a lot.” My breath stilts. “You both have.” Jed takes a sip from his glass. “I know you’ll look after her. God knows that girl doesn’t need any more hurt...” I’m toying with my hands now, squirming in my seat, as I wonder what exactly he is trying to tell me. “Josh?” he calls again, only this time I know I can’t ignore him any longer. I raise my head and meet his stare. “Don’t hurt her.” He tells me plainly.

Jed’s words echo in my head as I try to sleep that night. I toss and turn next to Donna, and feel sick to my stomach as dark thoughts overwhelm me.

Have I been selfish? Going after only what I want? Preying on Donna when she was at her most vulnerable? Am I hurting her? Right now, by sharing this bed? What sort of man am I? What sort of father am I?

The questions swirl through my mind. I do my best to expel them but it seems only to serve to increase their momentum and intensity.

I will sleep to consume me. It doesn’t come. So instead I lay rigid in the best and allow myself to do the only thing I can do: overthink.

_9 April 2007: Easter Monday_

You know how people say something ‘pulled at their heartstrings’? I always thought it was exactly that. Something people said. But now, right now, with Donna asleep beside me and our son asleep in my arms, I can feel it, a tugging on my heart, a deep ache within my chest, a pining for something that’s not quite within reach.

I feel my eyes start to brim with tears and squeeze them tightly closed. No. No crying. No pity for yourself. I take a breath and pull Ben closer to me. Donna always cries when she watches movies while she flies. “It’s the altitude…” she insists while she dabs a tissue to her sodden cheeks. It’s worth noting that Donna also cries at movies when she’s not flying. However, as I sense that tell-tale feeling in my nose – you know the one – I buy into her altitude excuse. You’re not actually this cut up, Josh. I tell myself. You’re just high above the clouds, disconnected from reality, so of course, this feels more painful than it is. You’re not really hurting. Not nearly enough to cry.

But I am. I’m in agony. There’s a searing pain in my chest. There is bile rising from my stomach to my throat, creeping forward in my mouth, so I can taste its wretchedness on my tongue. I swallow it down. My throat burns.

Why? Because I’ve made a decision. While we were in New Hampshire I had time to think. Time to consider things properly. Time to realise that this time, I need to be the one to make the sensible decision. Donna’s judgement is clouded. She’s not thinking clearly right now. She’s inundated with hormones. She’s sleep-deprived. She’s reeling from a near-death experience. And, despite how I feel, I can’t take advantage of the situation.

Donna made herself very clear when she was pregnant. We could not be a couple. It won’t work. It hasn’t worked in the past. It’s not fair on Ben to try now. It’s selfish and foolish and doomed. And she’s the sensible one, the one less likely to be impaired by emotion. Only right now, that’s not the case. So, that’s why. That’s why it’s up to me to make the hard decision. The one I can’t bear to make. Because, eventually, in a few weeks or months, when Donna is well-rested and less affected, she will regret whatever it is that’s happening between us and she will resent me for letting it happen. And that, that will break us, even more than we’ve been broken before. It would break _me_ , and I don’t think I can be glued back together too many more times.

I spend the flight trying to come to terms with the decision I’ve come to, while an oblivious Donna and Ben sleep. We’re all tired after a big weekend of travel and socialisation, so I don’t think Donna thinks too much about my silence as we drive from the airport to Georgetown. She pays little attention to my half-hearted shrugs and grunts as we unpack our things. She doesn’t notice that I don’t join her in singing Ben’s lullaby as we tuck him into his bassinet. It’s only when I stand in the doorway of her bedroom, watching her as she slips under the covers that she realises.

“Goodnight,” I say softly as I switch off the bedroom light.

The room is cast in darkness now, but I know her blue eyes are watching me intently. I take a step backwards into the hallway. It takes everything in me to edge my body away from the room, every ounce of strength to walk towards the pull-out bed that awaits me in the study.

“Josh?” I hear her call shakily.

My lack of response is deafening.

I slink into my bed. The cotton sheets are coarse against my skin, skin that’s flushed with shame and regret.

It was the right thing to do.

It _is_ the right thing to do.

I chant it over and over again in my head.

For the first time, Ben sleeps through the night. But in the morning, both mine and Donna’s eyes are red-rimmed and framed by black rings. We attempt to stifle our yawns as we side-step one another in the cramped kitchen. I feel our close proximity tug on my heartstrings.

_It is the right thing to do._


	19. Chapter 19

_27 April 2007_

**Donna:**

There is an elephant in the room. We have an unspoken agreement not to mention it. We’re good at ignoring things. We’ve had a lot of practice. We danced around each other for nearly eight years. We hid our contempt for the other’s love interests. We rolled our eyes at suggestions there might be something going on between us. So this is nothing new. This is just par for the course.

Except it’s not. Except I think my heart is more broken than ever.

I want to take him by his shoulders and shake him. I want to scream, “I’m in love with you, you fool! I always have been!” I want to demand answers. “Did you ever love me? Could you ever love me?” I want to know if I’m enough. I want to know if he’s scared. I want to tell him that I was scared, that my telling him it would never work was because I was completely and utterly scared. Scared that he wouldn’t want us; scared that it had all been a huge mistake; scared that I would be alone.

Some days I tell myself that he has done this because he’s scared too. That he’s in love with me but thinks I could never love him. But more frequently I tell myself that he simply doesn’t want this. And it wouldn’t be fair for me to begrudge him that. Hell, a few months ago I didn’t want it either. Well, I did want it. I just couldn’t see a way it would work. The truth is, I still don’t see a way it would work, but I just don’t care anymore. I saw how it could be, and I’d rather that – even for a split second before collapse – than the unbearable heartache of nothing at all. Because this is nothing at all.

“It’s getting warmer.”

This is it now. Our conversations are about menial things, like the weather or how we’re running low on dishwashing liquid.

“Yeah, we can start taking Ben out to the park soon,” I reply.

Josh shrugs his overcoat from his shoulders and tosses it on the sofa. “He asleep?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” I nod as I continue folding the laundry, keeping one eye on the TV.

Josh looks a little bereft at the sudden realisation that we are alone, without the convenient distraction of our son. He pauses before deciding to join me on the sofa.

“Have you eaten?” I cast a non-descript glance at him.

Josh frowns at his Blackberry screen before jamming it back into his pocket. “No.”

“Neither,” I turn my attention more fully to him. “Pizza?” I suggest in a hopeful tone.

Josh grins. “You’re not gonna pester me about my cholesterol?” I simply smirk in reply. “Sausage and mushroom?” Josh asks as he digs his phone back out and I nod eagerly.

With a greasy pizza in front of us and the ESPN highlights show on, it feels just like old times. I even steal a gulp from Josh’s beer bottle. His raised eyebrows do stilt me back into reality though. “One sip won’t hurt,” I tell him somewhat defensively.

Josh holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I didn’t say anything!” He grins, before snatching the bottle back and taking a swig. I smirk as I watch him.

It’s the kind of Friday night that any outsider would think sweet. But there are only glimpses of brightness, brief bursts of normalcy, tiny smidgens of something resembling love, but only if you squint and tilt your head a certain way. If I’m being honest, the past few weeks have been the hardest ones yet, because Ben has been so easy, _too easy_ , meaning I haven’t had the distraction of exhaustion to keep my sadness at bay. It feels as though Josh and I are hopelessly adrift. Like we’re on separate rafts, floating further and further away from one another, and we’ve both tried – at different times – to paddle towards one another. But each time, the one refusing to dip their oar has simply looked on blankly at the others pathetic attempt to close the gap. So, here we are, too tired, too stubborn, and too morose to challenge the waves. Josh may be sitting beside me on the sofa, but in actuality, the tide has carried him far, far away. There was a moment in which our bodies re-joined. In which all felt right in the world. But it has passed. Maybe, eventually, the sadness will pass too.

“They’re going to disband my detail,” Josh suddenly announces.

I turn to him and narrow my eyes. “What? Really?”

Josh shrugs. “The Secret Service have assessed the threat to me as low. Based on that – and the VP’s confirmation next month – Ron doesn’t think it needs to continue beyond June.”

“Oh.” I look down. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Josh turns and looks at me. “I guess that means you’ll want to start looking for your own place.”

I think the sadness is here to stay.

_2 May 2007_

**Josh:**

“It’s a good day, Carol.”

“Uh huh.”

“VP’s getting confirmed by the Senate. The sun is shining. It’s a good day.”

“Right.” Carol rolls her eyes. “It’s also a quiet day for you. No meetings this afternoon.”

“Good, I can finally get some real work done.”

“Or, maybe, you could go home before 10pm and spend some time with your son…”

I glare at her. “What? Has Donna been on your case?” My tone is interrogatory but I can’t seem to snap out of it.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Carol snaps.

I narrow my gaze and take a breath, before peering back at her. “You have messages for me?”

“Uh huh.”

Carol begins reading them out.

“I’ll take a call with Bradbury, but as for the rest, just fob ‘em off,” I tell her.

“Right.”

Carol is clearly pissed with me. I really should apologise… Instead, I bark at her. “Anything else?”

“This week’s invitations…” Carol starts.

“Ugh,” I groan. “Just decline everything. Unless y’know, there’s something especially important in there.”

“There’s nothing important. Same old.” Carol explains and I turn to head back into my office. “Except this weird one that I can’t sense the political angle on…”

“Trust me, Carol, there’s always an angle.” I lecture.

“It’s for the opening of an art exhibition, at the Salinger Gallery on Delaware Ave.”

I stop in my tracks. “An art gallery on Delaware Ave?” I croak.

“Did I not just say that?” Carol mutters.

“Gimme that.” I snatch the invitation from her hand and inspect it closely. “Hold my calls for 20 minutes, would ya?”

“Shall I put it in your calendar?”

“Um, yeah, sure. If I’m free.”

“You sure? Because I’m gonna have to get your detail to check the place out. That’s a whole lot of trouble to go to if you’re just gonna flake…”

I turn the invitation card over and see a message scrawled in feminine handwriting.

_Joshua, did you lose my number?_

_\- Liv xo_

“I’m going.” I insist as I storm into my office. I slam the door behind me and then press myself against it, pausing for a moment to steady myself. One deep breath later and I’m fumbling in my pocket for my Blackberry. I didn’t lose her number. I may have lost my mind for a couple of months, but I’m doing my utmost to put that behind me.

She picks up on the first ring. “Hello, Liv speaking.”

I gulp. “Hey, ah, this is Josh. Josh Lyman.” There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “I, um, I got your invite to the exhibition opening next week…”

“Joshua.” She sounds surprised.

“The one and only.” I grin.

“You didn’t lose my number then?” she asks.

I bite my lip. “No,” I admit.

“Okay then.”

“Okay.”

I hear Liv chuckle. “Are you calling to send your regrets?”

“No.” I grin. “If I were, I’d have my assistant make the call.”

She laughs again. “I see. So you can make it, then?”

“I can indeed.”

“Wow. White House Chief of Staff at my exhibition opening. Who’d have thought?” Liv jokes.

“This isn’t exactly good news for you,” I stress.

“Hmm?”

“Your place is gonna be swarmed by Secret Service agents sometime in the next few days.”

“It is?”

“I’m afraid so.” I grin. “And they’re gonna ask you all sorts of invasive questions...”

“I see.”

“You sure you’re willing to put up with that?”

“Just this once,” Liv replies.

“Alright.” I grin.

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna be working for most of the night. It’ll be boring for you. Maybe come a little closer to the end? That way we can grab a bite after…”

I feel myself smiling from ear to ear. “Sounds good.”

“See you next week.”

“Looking forward to it.”

And I am. I really am.

_8 May 2007_

**Donna:**

“Dad, I know this isn’t ideal, I just don’t know what else to do…”

“Donna,” Dad says sternly. “You need to speak to Josh.”

“Dad. I can’t.” I insist before a loud sigh escapes me. “Please Dad.”

It’s his turn to sigh now. “Donna…” He pauses. “I’ll have to talk to your Mom.”

“No, Dad, please.”

“I can’t take that amount of money from our savings account without consulting her.” Damn my father and his insistence on equality…

“You know that I’ll pay you back just as soon as I can, Dad,” I assure him. “I just need to get the medical bills paid so I can get apply for a lease.”

“Donna…” Dad starts again.

“Ben and I need somewhere of our own. We’re taking advantage of Josh’s generosity.”

“Ben is Josh’s son, Donna,” Dad says sternly. “It’s not generosity, it’s _responsibility_.”

“Dad.” I bite my lip. “I’m gonna find a job and we’re going to move out.”

“Donna…” Dad’s voice is stern now.

“I wouldn’t ask if I had any other options, Dad. You know that.”

There’s a heavy silence on the other end of the line. “I’ll talk to your mother.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“Goodbye sweetheart.” He sighs.

“Bye. Love you.”

“I love you too.” He sighs before the line goes dead.

I sit back against the chair and squeeze my eyes tightly shut. It’s early May. There’s only a couple of months before the detail ends, only a couple of months until Ben and I need to move out.

I pick up one of the many letters piled on the dining table. It’s stamped ‘PAST DUE’ and my stomach turns as I look at it. My medical insurance only covers the basics. It doesn’t stretch to an emergency caesarean or a week-long hospital stay. I’ve managed to cover most of the bills thus far with my savings account, but I’m down to my last $1000 now, and I’ve reserved it for paying for my ongoing medical coverage.

I’ve just pleaded with my Dad for nearly $6000 to cover the remaining cost because if I fail to pay by the end of May, there will be a debt collector at the door. And I can’t have a bad credit rating if I’m to get a lease in Washington D.C.

Life is incredibly unfair, I muse as I toss the letter back onto the table.

I’ve been on the same shitty healthcare plan since I started college over ten years ago. Of course, back then, my parents helped me to pay for it. But once I started living with Dr Freeride, their financial support waned. They were decidedly unhappy that I had dropped out of college – albeit temporarily – to support the two of us. So I was left to pay for the crappy coverage on my own. It’s been that way ever since.

I’ve always prided myself on the fact that I – _mostly_ – pay my bills on time. I mean, I admit there were a couple of hiccups in those first few years at the White House… Back then, having a regular paycheck was somewhat of a novelty for me, so I couldn’t resist splurging on a few things, even if that meant paying my electric bill more than a few days after its due date. But over the last few years, I’ve been incredibly sensible with my money. I managed to squirrel away a significant amount – well, significant by my standards – while I was working on the Russell campaign, which resulted in a rather healthy savings account. Of course, it helped that I wasn’t paying rent and was able to charge my meals and laundry to the campaign. But I was being sensible. I was financially secure, for basically the first time ever. Hell, I was even thinking of getting myself onto a better health insurance plan… But I didn’t. Because the campaign ended and I ended up in pregnant in Wisconsin. And now I’m in DC with debt collectors about to be set on me.

Josh never asked about me about my health insurance. I mean, he rightly assumed I had it. He saw me provide my health insurance information to Dr Roskill’s office, but he didn’t think to ask exactly what it covered or how much it cost. And, why should he have? Those things were my responsibility. I am a grown-ass adult. It’s just that now my savings are basically gone because the cost of emergency surgery in the nation’s capital is wholly exorbitant.

The one bright ray of sunshine in all of this is that Ben was automatically put onto Josh’s health insurance plan because Josh was the only parent conscious when our son came into the world. Thank god I don’t have to shoulder that payment burden too. I genuinely couldn’t afford it right now, and not being able to give my child access to high-quality healthcare would kill me.

But I am determined not to ask Josh for his help – financial or otherwise. I already feel like enough of a leech without having to ask him for thousands of dollars to cover bills that I incurred because I barely have functioning health insurance.

It is clear that he wants me out of his place, and I understand it, I do. This arrangement is far from suitable and the time has come for us to establish ourselves separately. But I’m terrified that I won’t be able to make ends meet. I’m dreading raising Ben in a sub-par apartment – the DC winters are cold and brutal and I don’t want him to suffer just because he has me for a mother.

Of course, I know that Josh wouldn’t let that happen. I am certain he will do everything in his power to look after both of us. But I don’t want to be reliant on him. I want to forge ahead and prove myself. I was willing to do this without him, and I can. I’m sure I can. I’m just not quite there yet…

**Josh:**

“Hello?” I hear Donna shout from down the hall as I close the door behind me.

“It’s just me,” I assure her. I shrug off my coat and toss it over an armchair.

Donna walks into the hallway with Ben nestled in her arms and quirks her head at me. “You’re early. It’s not even seven yet.”

I haven’t been getting home until at least 10pm for the last few weeks. Part of my ‘avoid and ignore’ strategy. Mature stuff. “Ah, yeah, I’ve gotta get changed and go to a thing,” I tell Donna.

She nods and walks back into the nursery. “I’m just changing his diaper,” she tells me.

“K.” I reply as I loosen my necktie and make my way into the kitchen. There’s a pot of something simmering on the stove and the sight of it stops me in my tracks. These domestic scenes in my home are so comforting, yet so foreign at the same time. I gulp before swinging the fridge door open and grabbing a beer.

I’m going to Liv’s art exhibition tonight. It’s supposed to be starting around now, but I am to arrive late and then take her out for dinner somewhere. She’s concocted a plan of sorts with the Secret Service, so it’s all systems go on that front. I’ve got plenty of time for a beer, a shower and a bedtime story with Ben before I leave. I pop the cap off my Heineken and make my way back out into the living room.

As I pass the dining table I spot a myriad of newspapers piled up. They’re all opened to the classifieds section and red-ink encircles several listings. I take a closer look and discover that both jobs and apartments are highlighted.

I furrow my brow as I skim them:

_Congressional Aide. Media Assistant. Secretary to the Chief Financial Officer._

All of these roles are far below Donna’s station, but it’s the housing listings that bother me the most:

_Basement studio apartment for rent in Deanwood. Bedroom for rent in Mount Rainer, complete with four college-student roommates._

These are terrible suburbs, located miles from me, and they appear to be the cheapest rentals listed in the Post. They are entirely unfit for our infant son.

I grimace and toss the papers back onto the cluttered table. Donna’s ancient laptop is turned on and opened to a spreadsheet which appears to be her financial incomings and outgoings. A quick review reveals that there are zero incomings but a whole lot of outgoings. I furrow my brow again and take a swig of my beer.

Various papers are piled beside Donna’s computer. I pick one up and inspect it closely. It’s a hospital bill from GW and it’s emblazoned with the text ‘PAST DUE’ in harsh red letters. I gulp as I survey the amount due. Underneath GW’s letter is a statement from Donna’s health insurer. It contains costings of all the expenses that they cover, with those that Donna has to fund herself in a separate column. Donna’s emergency caesarean and her seven-night stay in hospital are not covered.

I flick through the pages and my eye is drawn to a fee for psychiatric services from the American Trauma Victims Association. The service was subsidised by Donna’s insurer, but each session still cost her well over $100. The date of the last service was back in October. Donna probably hasn’t had further sessions since then because she can’t afford it, because she’s not working… I hang my head as this realisation washes over me.

“Donna?” I yell.

“Uh huh?”

“Come here.” I say sternly before lifting the bottle to my lips once more and taking a hearty chug.

“What’s up?” Donna asks as she walks in the living room, Ben on her hip. “Look who’s home, bud – Daddy!” I rise to my feet as Donna walks towards me. “Yay, Daddy’s home!” She grins for Ben’s sake as she places him in my arms.

“Donna,” I say again, barely paying any attention to Ben aside from adjusting him in my arms.

Donna narrows her eyes. “What?” she asks amusedly before setting off towards the kitchen. “Can you hold him for a sec? I’ve just gotta stir this pasta sauce…”

“Donna,” I say more sternly this time.

“What?” she turns and looks at me expectantly.

“What the hell is all this?” I gesture to the table.

A look of terror flashes across Donna’s face and she gulps. “Sorry,” she says quickly as she begins bundling letters and newspapers in her arms. “You’re usually home much later,” she explains as she slams her laptop shut.

I hear myself take a deep breath. “Donna, what is going on?” I ask in as calm a voice as I can muster.

Donna bites her lip. “It’s fine, Josh,” she insists. “I talked to my Dad today and my parents are going to help me out.”

“What?!” I demand in a far less calm tone. Ben starts to fuss in my arms and Donna glances at him worriedly. I squeeze my eyes shut and drop my head. “Your parents are going to help?” I ask quietly.

“They’re going to loan me the money to clear my medical debt,” Donna explains. “I can’t get a place of my own with the debt unpaid, and I can’t afford a place of my own if I don’t get a job...” she shrugs as if it’s all no big deal.

I cradle Ben a little closer and prise my eyes open. “Your Dad’s retired, Donna. Your parents can’t afford to loan you that much money.”

“Josh…” Donna starts.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice wavers as I speak. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

Donna looks away and shakes her head. “Josh…” she starts.

“I’m putting you on my health insurance,” I tell her adamantly. “And I’m clearing your debt.”

“I don’t want you to.” Donna insists.

“Tough.” I turn and start walking away.

An art gallery stuffed with snooty people is precisely the last place I want to be right now, but here I am wandering the marble tiles, champagne flute in hand.

I’ve showered, shaved, put some stuff in my hair, and I’m wearing my nicest navy suit – which I miraculously avoided getting baby drool or vomit on as I tucked Ben in – so I know I’m looking good, but, despite appearances, I feel like utter crap. Plus, I’ve been here for like an hour and so far I’ve only spoken to Liv for two minutes. She had to dash off and assist some lowly intern in selling an overpriced and frankly hideous piece of art to some poor gomer with more money than sense. I roll my eyes as I take in the equally hideous piece hanging in front of me. The plaque beneath the painting claims it’s worth $15,000. I thoroughly disagree.

“You okay?” I hear a voice behind me ask.

I turn and force a smile at Liv. “Yeah, just a busy day,” I assure her.

“Okay. I’m almost done here.” Liv tells me and I nod in reply. “What do you think?” she nods towards the large canvas before me.

I purse my lips. “It’s _interesting_.”

Liv smirks. “Uh huh…”

“I don’t really know anything about art.” I admit as I take a sip of champagne.

“Well, I’m a good teacher.” Liv’s eyes glint with mischief and I bite my lip. “I won’t be much longer,” she touches my arm reassuringly before disappearing back into the crowd.

I feel one corner of my lip snarl upwards as I’m again left alone with my not-so-inconspicuous detail. I am used to feeling like a kind of ‘power-player’ in Washington, but I am a nobody amongst the refined artsy crowd at this event. That is until I hear a familiar voice shout my name.

“Lyman!”

I turn my head and see a brunette woman charging towards me. “Amy,” I say dryly as she draws closer.

“I thought that was you,” Amy looks amused as she watches me skull the contents of my glass. “What the hell are you doing here?” she demands.

I shrug. “I’m an art lover.” I explain.

“ _Really_?” Amy smirks and lifts her glass to her lips.

“Really.” I lie as I thrust my empty flute onto the tray of a passing waiter. “What are you doing here?” I enquire in my most smarmy tone. She has caught me entirely off-guard and I’m determined not to let her best me.

“Oh, these are my people now.” Amy raises her eyebrows coyly. “The art folk.”

“Uh huh,” I grin at her.

“Brody is a friend of the artist,” Amy explains further as her eyes scan the room.

“Brody? The lumberjack?” I grin.

“Wood sculptor.” Amy corrects me. “Who are you here with anyway?” I shrug and glance away. “Joshua.” Amy steps into my eye line and casts me an expectant look. “You’re not here with Olivia Beaumont, are you? I saw you two talking just now… it looked cosy.” I glare at Amy but decline to give her an answer. “Interesting,” she beams, clearly taking my silence as confirmation. “What does Donna think of this, I wonder?”

I clench my jaw and look away.

“Thanks for coming,” Liv smiles as we stand on the stoop outside her apartment.

I smile. “Thanks for the invitation.” I thrust my hands into my pockets.

If this date were happening under different circumstances, now would be the appropriate time for me to kiss her goodnight, but these are odd circumstances. I’m currently flanked by two Secret Service agents who probably think I’m cheating on Donna or something…

“You want to do this again sometime?” Liv tilts her head and studies my face.

“An exhibition opening?” I ask somewhat incredulously.

Liv laughs. “Maybe just the dinner this time.”

I smile. “Yeah, I’d like that,” I confirm.

“You won’t leave it so long to call this time?” Liv teases.

I shake my head and feel my cheeks flush a little. “No, I won’t,” I promise.

“Okay,” Liv grins at me before stepping down a step and kissing my cheek. “Goodnight Joshua.” Her hands are pressed against my chest and she uses me to propel herself backwards, quickly turning on her heel and waltzing inside her building.

“Goodnight.” I manage to whisper weakly as she shuts the door behind her.

There are butterflies in my stomach, but I can’t tell whether they’re the good kind or the guilt-induced kind.

“Home, Mr Lyman?” One of the agents asks as I walk towards the idling SUV. I nod in reply. “Bulldog is en route to the Pound.” The agent says into his wrist.

**Donna:**

I’m flicking through banal television shows as I wait up for Josh. It’s late, nearly midnight, and I’m exhausted but I can’t sleep. I need to speak to him. There’s never going to be a good time for this conversation, but I am determined to have it.

My stomach turns when I hear his key turning in the lock. I watch anxiously as the door swings open. Josh sighs when he spots me waiting for him on the couch.

“Hi,” I say softly.

He tosses his keys onto the side table and roughly runs his fingers through his hair. “Hey,” he mutters.

“Can we talk?” I plead.

Josh sighs again. “It’s late, Donna.”

“Josh…”

He bites his lip but ultimately decides to join me on the couch. “I’m sorry if I overreacted.” He mutters, unable to look me in the eye.

“It’s my fault,” I admit. “I should have told you.”

“I should have asked.” Josh insists. “I just assumed…” he shakes his head as his sentence trails off.

“Yeah,” I wring my hands as we sit awkwardly next to one another.

“You stopped seeing ADVA,” Josh says quietly and I immediately snap my head to look at him. “I saw the charges on your statement.” I feel myself scowl and I look away. “You couldn’t afford it?” Josh presses.

“I haven’t worked in over six months, Josh,” I reply curtly. I’m furious that he saw that very personal detail on my insurance documents.

“Do you need to speak to someone? Do you want to?” Josh asks.

I shrug. “I don’t know…” I admit.

“You know that you can stay here, right?” Josh says.

I turn and look at him confusedly. “I thought you wanted us to go…”

Josh’s nostrils flare. “Donna…” he starts before raking a hand through his hair again. “I _never_ said that.”

I shake my head. “Okay, whatever. Forget it.”

“Stay.” Josh pleads. “I want you here. Both of you.”

“It’s not working, Josh.”

“Sure it is.” The bitterness of the lie makes his lip snarl upwards.

“It’s not.” I insist. “Everything that we said wasn’t going to be a problem is rapidly becoming a problem.”

Josh shakes his head defiantly. “I want you here.”

“Josh,” I let out an exasperated sigh. “Tonight, you had a date, right?” Josh’s entire body stiffens and suddenly he can’t bring himself to look at me. “It’s okay, Josh.” I insist. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

I’m telling him this despite the fact there is bile rising in my throat at the thought of him on a date with a woman that’s not me. Seeing him get ready this evening gave way to a kind of agony that I haven’t ever experienced before. Not when he dated Mandy or Amy. Not ever.

Josh’s eyes are squeezed close. “Donna…” he says in a low tone.

“I’m going to find a job,” I tell him. “And once I have enough money behind me, Ben and I will move into our own place.” Josh’s jaw is clenched firmly shut. “But that’s going to take time, Josh,” I assure him. “It’s not gonna happen for another few months, at least.”

Josh’s body is still tightly coiled. “You’ve only been buying groceries and stuff for the baby with my money.” It’s not a question but I nod slowly anyway. Josh watches me and then shakes his head in disbelief. “Donna…” he grimaces.

“You just said it yourself, Josh. It’s not _my_ money.”

“I gave you a credit card and access to a well-endowed checking account. Money for _you_ to use, for whatever _you_ need.” Josh insists. “You really thought I wouldn’t pay your hospital bills?” His voice breaks a little and I can tell he’s incredibly hurt.

“I don’t know!” I hear myself shout as thick tears make their way down my cheeks. I’m half expecting Josh to sling his arm around my shoulders and pull me to his chest, but the comfort never comes. Instead, I hear Josh lift himself up from the sofa.

“Carol’s going to call you tomorrow. She’ll need your insurance details and a copy of your statement from GW.” Josh tells me plainly. “Give them to her.” I nod slowly and start to feel as though I am a child being scolded by a disappointed teacher. “I’m putting you on my health insurance, and I’m going to make a monthly deposit into your bank account. It’s money for you and only you, Donna. To pay for ATVA appointments, or clothes. or… _tenancy fees_.” He winces as he mutters those words. “Anything for Ben, any groceries, or car registration costs, or I dunno, _towels_ … use my checking account or the credit card.” I continue to nod slowly, still processing his energetic tirade. “Okay?” Josh prods, his hands resting on his hips.

“Okay,” I reply quietly.

Josh nods his head before striding purposefully down the hall. I watch him walk away and then see him come to an abrupt stop. “Call your Dad.” He says in a low voice. “Tell him it’s all sorted.” He pauses. “Tell him I’ll always look after you.”

“Josh…”

Josh turns and steels me with a frosty look. “Tell him.”


	20. Chapter 20

_21 May 2007_

**Donna:**

“You’re looking much brighter!” Sarah beams. I shrug and offer her a small smile. “Must be that salt air,” she continues.

“Yeah, maybe,” or maybe it’s the 1,000 miles separating your son and me.

“Well, Florida suits you,” Sarah tells me as she jiggles Ben on her hip. “It suits both of you…”

Ben and I are visiting Josh’s Mom for a week – at her behest, of course. Though I did not take much convincing, swapping Georgetown for West Palm Beach was quite the no-brainer. Josh is overwhelmed with work at the moment and, to be honest, I think he was quite relieved to have us out of his hair for a few days. Things have been weird – or weirder – between us since he found out about my medical debt. Besides, I’ve been rejected from about 20 jobs in the past fortnight, so I could do with a break. And it really is a break here. Sarah is the most doting grandmother you could imagine. It’s adorable to watch her interact with Ben – especially because he is so much more alert now, full of smiles and giggles which showcase his incredibly cute dimples.

“Shall we go shopping today?” Sarah asks as she pours some coffee into a mug.

“Yeah, that would be great,” I smile in response as I take a seat at the counter. “He’s growing so fast these days, half of what I packed for him probably won’t fit by the end of the week.”

“Yes, well, we can certainly do some baby shopping, but I meant shopping for you. A new work wardrobe!” Sarah tells me excitedly.

I roll my eyes. “Well, I don’t have a job yet.” I grimace.

“It’ll happen,” Sarah assures me. “With your experience, some fabulous place is bound to snap you up in no time.”

“Experience doesn’t seem to matter much when one has no college degree…” I tell her as clasp my hands around the warm mug. “Let this be a lesson to you, Benjamin,” I coo to Ben who eyes me curiously. “Don’t drop out halfway through or you’ll be screwed…”

Sarah shakes her head. “Nonsense,” she tells me. “You’ll see. Something incredible will come your way.” Sarah smiles warmly at me and I can’t help but do the same in response. She is the most supportive and comforting presence to be around. “And, as for you Benny, your Daddy already has your college plans all mapped out…” Sarah bounces Ben excitedly. “Yes, he does! You’re off to Harvard and then Yale Law just like him.”

I shake my head incredulously. “Another Lyman with an Ivy League ego, just what we need…”

Sarah grins at me. “So, we’ll shop?” she asks.

I roll my eyes and nod my head. “Okay, okay. Whatever you say.” These Lyman’s are annoyingly persuasive.

“Good,” she tells me. “I finally have a daughter-in-law to spoil rotten.”

Sarah’s words are incredibly kind and I have no doubt that they’re genuine, but I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt and sadness as I hear them. I smile at her but immediately avert my gaze.

“I think we should start at J.Crew,” Sarah tells me. “They have some gorgeous new summer dresses, plus they’ve got a kids section…” Sarah’s interrupted by the ringing of her landline. “It’s Josh,” she tells me as inspects the Caller ID. “Do you want to answer?”

I shake my head adamantly. “You go ahead,” I assure her with a polite smile.

“Hi honey,” Sarah smiles as she answers. “We’re all great. We’re having breakfast and then going on a shopping spree!” she pauses to listen to him. “Uh-huh, uh-huh. Yeah, he’s okay. Sleeping well, probably missing you though. You wanna say Hi?”

I zone out as Sarah attempts to put Ben on the phone to Josh. While she doesn’t push the issue, I know Sarah can tell something has happened between Josh and I. Of course, Josh hasn’t told her anything, and I’m far too embarrassed or ashamed or downright heartbroken to tell her what’s going on...

**Josh:**

“You wanna come up?” Liv asks as she peers over my shoulder at my idling detail.

It’s our fourth date and the two of us are yet to move beyond a brief kiss on the stoop outside her place. I hear myself take a breath. Donna and Ben in Florida for the week. There’s no reason to rush home. A beautiful woman is inviting me up to her place. “Yeah,” I smile. “Sounds good.”

Liv grins and clasps me by the hand as she leads me up the stairs. I hear an agent hurriedly follow us and I shake my head at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Once Liv’s apartment is deemed ‘safe’ by the Secret Service, we’re left to our own devices.

“Wine?”

I nod eagerly. “Yeah, that’d be great.” I thrust my hands into my pockets and start aimlessly pacing around Liv’s apartment. It’s beautifully decorated, with stunning art hanging off every surface.

“You okay?” Liv calls from the kitchen as she prises a cork from a bottle of merlot.

“Uh-huh,” I call in reply. “Just a busy day.”

“You’re missing Ben,” Liv tells me knowingly.

I force a smile at her. “Yeah, that’s it.” Except it’s not. I’m missing Ben _and_ Donna.

“Come sit,” Liv urges as she makes her way to the couch, two wine glasses in her hands.

I slowly make my way over to her. Our dates have been enjoyable so far. Liv is entertaining, intelligent, utterly gorgeous and so easy to be around. On paper, she is perfect for me. But something doesn’t feel right, it’s like I’m forcing something or not being my genuine self.

“To new beginnings.” Liv toasts and I clink her glass somewhat reluctantly. “God it feels good not to have those guys hovering,” she grins as she runs her fingers through her dark hair.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I tell her before swallowing a hefty gulp of red wine. “You won’t have to put up with it for much longer. They're wrapping up in about a month.”

Liv smirks at me. “You’re still gonna have me around in a month?”

I feel my cheeks flush and I bite my lip.

Liv’s grin grows wider. “Fourth date, Joshua. Things are getting mighty serious.”

“That they are,” I reply as I move closer to Liv.

Liv cuddles into my outstretched arm and lays her head against my chest. I take the opportunity to rest my chin on top of her head and find myself revelling in the comfort of the closeness. We stay like this for a while – cuddling as we sip our wine and share stories. I’ve missed this level of intimacy and the excitement that comes with getting to know somebody new. When our glasses are both empty Liv places them on the side table before cuddling back into me.

“This is nice,” she whispers as she takes hold of my hand and entwines her fingers.

“Mmmm,” I nuzzle into her hair and breathe in the heavy scent of her shampoo.

“Josh?” she asks tentatively.

“Yeah?” I mumble in reply.

“Are you going to kiss me properly?” Liv licks her bottom lip and tilts her head at me expectantly.

I don’t hesitate to press my lips to hers, and Liv eagerly reciprocates, her hands tugging on my hair and pulling my body closer to hers. Before I know it we’re both lying on the couch, me on top of her, our hands greedily exploring the other's body. I feel her fingers start to prise my shirt buttons open and suddenly recoil at her touch. I rapidly sit upright and start desperately gulping in air.

“Are you okay?” Liv asks, her cheeks flushed.

I gasp for yet another breath and pat her thigh reassuringly. “Sorry. I just need a minute.” I leap to my feet. “Where’s your bathroom?”

My head is spinning. I think I’m about to be sick. I slam the bathroom door shut and push my back against it. Laboured breaths wrack my body. I will myself to calm down but I can’t quite seem to do it. My fingernails press into my palms with such vengeance that I swear they’re about to draw blood. I make my way over the basin and throw cold water over my red face. Calm the fuck down, I tell myself.

“Josh?” I hear Liv call but I can’t bring myself to answer her. “Josh?” she calls again.

“Just a minute,” I yell weakly in response. “I just need a minute,” I whisper to myself as I stare into the gilded mirror and clutch the sides of the counter.

My heart is racing and there’s bile in my throat. I sneer at the weak man looking back at me and wipe my wet face with a hand towel. What the fuck is wrong with me? Probably too many things to list.

“You okay there?” Liv chuckles as I make my way back to the couch. “Did I scare ya?”

I bite my lip and smile falsely at her. “Sorry, I just…” I shrug. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. We don’t have to move so fast.” Liv tells me.

I nod slowly and feel Liv cuddle back into me. “We can go as slow as you like,” she grins with a glint in her eye.

I smile weakly and look away.

“Your phone rang,” Liv tells me.

I glance at her worriedly. “What? When?”

“While you were in the bathroom,” Liv replies. “I don’t know what the protocol is when you’re four dates in, but I thought it might be some national emergency or something, so I answered it.”

“You what?” I look at her quizzically.

Liv shrugs. “Don’t worry. It was a false alarm. There wasn’t even anyone on the line.”

My heart drops and I snatch my Blackberry from the arm of the couch and trawl through the ‘Recent Calls’. The last call I received came in at 9.03 pm. The number isn’t associated with anyone on my contact list - it’s a Florida landline. It’s my mother’s number, and 9 pm is Ben’s bedtime.

Liv sees the dismay on my face. “Sorry,” she says quietly as she rubs my arm.

“It’s fine,” I assure her. “You can just let it go to voicemail next time.”

Liv nods and leans into me again. “Where were we?”

My body tenses and I pull away. “I actually have to go,” I announce as I stand up and shrug on my discarded jacket. “I’ve got an early start in the morning.”

“Josh…”

“This was fun though,” I interrupt. “I’ll call you tomorrow?” Liv sighs and leans back against the couch. I lean down and kiss her cheek chastely. “I can see myself out.”

**Donna:**

“Shall we call your Daddy and say goodnight?” I ask Ben as I settle him in his port-a-cot.

Ben gurgles up at me nonsensically. We’ve just finished his bedtime routine with Bubbee: bathtime, fresh PJs and a storybook. Now it’s time for Mommy and Daddy to lull him to sleep with his lullaby. 

I grab my Blackberry out of my pocket but the battery’s dead. “Sarah? I’m just gonna use your landline real quick.” I call as I grab the phone from the dock in the hall.

I know Josh’s number by heart. I used to call it every morning at 6 am to make sure he was out of bed. I rest my hand on Ben’s chest in an attempt to calm him down as I wait for Josh to answer. He gets so excited when I mention ‘Daddy’ that he can’t help but kick his chubby little legs around.

Only Josh doesn’t answer, someone else does – a woman.

“Josh Lyman’s phone,” she says happily. “Hello?”

I pause. Maybe it’s Carol? It’s not. I know it’s not. I worked with Carol for eight years, I know her voice. This voice is not someone I know. It’s not Lou or Ronna or Annabeth. It’s someone new.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end of the phone is impatient now.

I can’t bear to say anything so instead, I hastily press the end call button.

Ben is looking up at me with wide eyes. “No Daddy tonight, bud,” I say morosely as I smooth down his soft, brown curls. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…” I begin singing quietly, but I can’t help but think that the lullaby sounds far better when sung as a duet.

**Josh:**

My agents don’t say anything, but I can tell that they know something’s not quite right. I’m skittish, I won’t sit still in my seat and I’m breathing heavily.

“Home, Mr Lyman?” The head of my details asks.

I shake my head. I can’t bear to walk into my empty apartment right now. I feel like a ghost being there without Ben and Donna. I don’t know how I will cope when they move out. “The White House.” I hear myself announce.

_22 May 2007_

“Did you stay here?” Carol demands as she thrusts my office curtains open.

The morning sun pierces my closed eyes. “Jesus,” I groan grumpily.

“Nope, just lil’ old me.” Carol grins. “You want coffee?”

I force myself up from the couch and stretch my neck out. “Are you offering?”

Carol smirks. “There’s a fresh pot in the bullpen,” she tells me. “Have at it.”

“Of course…” I roll my eyes and follow Carol out of the office.

“I thought you were going out last night?” she enquires.

I shrug. “Change of plans.”

It’s lunchtime when I finally work up the courage to call Donna back. I don’t know what I’m going to say but I desperately want to talk to her.

It takes a while for her to answer. “Hey,” she says flatly.

“Hi.”'

“What’s up?”

“I didn’t get to say goodnight yesterday,” I pause. “I’m missing you guys.”

I hear Donna huff at the other end of the line. “I’m sure there’s plenty to keep you occupied in DC, Josh.”

My jaw clenches. “Donna,” I sigh.

“I’ll call you tonight. 9 o’clock,” she tells me. “I’d appreciate if _you_ could be the one to answer your phone this time.”

My lip curls upwards. “What was it that you said about me not doing anything wrong?” I counter.

I immediately want to take the words back. I want to explain everything. I want to tell her that I couldn’t go through with it, that kissing Liv made me feel like an adulterer, that the thought of sleeping with anyone that’s not her only serves to make my stomach turn. But before I have a chance to, the phone line goes dead.

“Ah, returning to the scene of the crime…” Liv smirks at me a glass of wine clutched in her hand.

“You gonna invite me in?”

Liv rolls her eyes and steps aside. “Drink?” she asks but I shake my head.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I tell her as I follow her towards the living room.

“It’s fine.” Liv shrugs. “Really."

“I’m sure you don’t usually have guys turn you down…” I start but Liv quirks her head at me. “Not that you must proposition a lot of guys or anything…”

Liv groans and shakes her head. “Jesus Christ, Joshua.”

“Sorry. I am actually useless,” I lament.

“You sure you don’t want some liquid courage?”

I smile but shake my head again. “I’m okay,” I assure her. “I just wanted to apologise.”

Liv nods slowly and toys with the glass in her hands, studying it closely, unwilling to look at me. “And to end things right?” she asks, only daring to meet my eye once she’s finished her sentence.

“I, ah, yeah…” I stammer as Liv nods again. “I’m sorry,” I tell her honestly. “I wasn’t trying to lead you on or anything…”

Liv shrugs. “Josh, it’s okay. We had four dates and made out on a couch. You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I don’t usually do this,” I bite my lip. “Breaking up, I mean.”

Liv narrows her gaze. “Always the dumpee, never the dumper?” she kids.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m sure you can see why…” I joke.

“As I said, Josh, I don’t need an explanation. I understand.” I nod and take a deep breath. “I’m divorced,” Liv tells me. “You think I haven’t gone through exactly what you’re going through?” I look up at her confusedly. “The guilt and shame when you attempt to move on,” she explains. “Well, that and the unwillingness to tell the one person you actually love how you feel.” Liv shakes her head. “I’ve been there.”

“But it didn’t work out?” I question.

“There are some things that you just can’t fix,” Liv shrugs. “We wanted different things. We’d changed and not for the better, and, when I needed him most, he wasn’t there.” Liv shrugs. “It hurt but I got through it.”

“You don’t think it’s salvageable?”

Liv shakes her head adamantly. “I think you and Donna are very different to me and my ex. I mean, you already have something that will bond you forever – Ben. If he’s not enough of a reason to try, I don’t know what hope the rest of us have.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I admit in a choked voice. “She doesn’t want to be together.”

“I think you’re gonna need that wine after all,” Liv mumbles and she pours another glass.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her as I harshly wipe an escaping tear from my eye.

“You’re an idiot,” Liv tells me as she hands me the glass.

“So I’m told.”


	21. Chapter 21

_27 May 2007_

**Donna:**

“All packed?” Sarah asks from the doorway of the guest bedroom.

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “I think so…”

“I’m gonna miss you guys,” Sarah tells me as she pads her way over the port-a-cot where Ben is fast asleep.

“We’re going to miss you,” I tell her honestly. “It’s been a great week.”

It really has. We’ve gone to the beach every day, had dinner parties with Sarah’s friends, and trawled through Josh’s old baby photos – in order to compare them to Ben, of course. We’ve stayed up until the wee hours talking and talking and talking some more.

Sarah is the most easy person to be around, she is motherly but never smothers me – the ideal mother-in-law, I guess, or pseudo mother-in-law. Whatever. A week in Florida was exactly what I needed, I could not have asked for a better break.

“You’re welcome anytime,” Sarah smiles warmly. “Maybe bring that son of mine with you on your next trip…”

I smirk and take a seat on the bed. “You know how he is,” I shrug. “Can’t keep him away from the White House.”

Sarah furrows her brow and a sigh escapes her. “I really thought he’d have his priorities in order by now.”

“He does,” I assure her. I’m really not trying to throw Josh under the bus but Sarah has evidently picked up on the palpable tension between us right now. “He’s great with Ben.”

Sarah nods but keeps her eyes locked on Ben. “Well, that’s something,” she says quietly.

“Well, it’s not nothing, Sarah,” I say defensively.

Sarah looks over at me seemingly perplexed. “I just mean that, well, you know he’s always had trouble admitting how he feels, Donna.”

I shake my head. “That’s just Josh.”

Sarah shakes her head amusedly. “It’s not, dear. It’s you.”

I feel myself flush and look away. “I should get to sleep. Early flight.”

Sarah smiles and makes her way over to me, pulling me into a warm hug. “Goodnight Donna,” she says as she presses a kiss onto my forehead.

“Night,” I whisper as she softly closes the door behind her.

_28 May 2007_

**Josh:**

“You getting much pushback from HUD on our amendments to the social housing scheme?” Sam asks.

“A little. Amy’s actually been great at smoothing things over,” I reply as I lean back in my chair.

Sam and I are having our Monday morning ‘one-on-one’ catch up post-Senior Staff, it’s where we go over our priorities for the week ahead and get a sense of where our resources should be directed – it’s also a great way to discuss Sunday night football under the guise of ‘work’.

Sam raises his eyebrows. “Never thought those words would come outta your mouth…”

I grin. “Shocking, I know.”

Sam smirks and glances at the array of photographs that litter my desk. “Donna and Ben home today?”

I bite my lip. “Uh-huh.”

Sam quirks his head at me. “Looking forward to that are ya?”

“Uh-huh,” I reply before straightening up in my chair. “How’s the wedding planning going?” I ask in a desperate attempt to deflect.

Sam looks at me incredulously. “The wedding planning?” he questions.

“Yeah,” I shrug nonchalantly but Sam looks at me strangely. “What? I can’t be interested in you and Natalie?”

Sam looks truly baffled. “No, you can, I’m just _surprised_ ,” he shrugs his shoulders. “We’ve got a date locked in. November 10 in LA.”

“That’s great,” I grin. “LA, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s easy. Our families are both there,” Sam shrugs. “Think you’ll make it?”

“Of course,” I assure him. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“That’s a relief, ‘cause you’re my best man.”

My grin grows wider. “I am?”

“Yes,” Sam confirms somewhat bashfully.

“November’s really not that far away,” I tell Sam.

“Natalie didn’t want a drawn out engagement,” he shrugs. “She wants to, y’know, have kids right away…”

“Right. Couldn’t possibly do that without a ring…” I smirk.

“Josh…” Sam rolls his eyes.

“I’m kidding!” I insist.

Sam simply shakes his head at me. “Actually, I do have a question for you, or rather, Natalie does…” he pauses and bites his lip. “Should we send separate invitations to you and Donna, or…”

“Sam,” I groan.

“It’s a genuine question!” Sam insists. “I mean…” He frowns. “Do you want a plus one?”

“Fucking hell…” I mutter.

“Look I know it’s _complicated_ , but can you help us out here?” Sam pleads.

I shake my head. “I wish I could, Sam. I really do.”

Sam sighs and stands up to leave. “Don’t stay here too late tonight, okay?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah, sure.”

“Seriously Josh,” Sam shoots me a worried look. “At some point you’ve gotta deal with this shit, you know?”

I nod slowly. “I know, Sam.”

I hear the click of the door behind Sam and immediately drop my head onto my desk blotter and let out a strangled groan. I’ve had all week to psych myself up for the conversation I desperately need to have with Donna, and yet I still feel completely unprepared.

A glance down at my shitty watch tells me it’s 10am, which means Donna and Ben should have landed by now. I pause for second before grabbing my Blackberry and dialling Donna’s number.

“Hey,” she says quietly and I can hear Ben crying faintly in the background.

“Hey. You guys get in okay?”

“Yeah, just waiting at baggage collection.”

“Was Ben okay on the flight?”

Donna sighs. “No,” she groans. “I think he’s coming down with something. He cried the entire flight and he’s starting to burn up…”

“Oh,” I bite my lip.

“Yeah,” Donna sounds exhausted. “I think we might just go straight to his paediatrician.”

“You okay?”

Donna sighs again. “Not really,” she admits. “Detail’s been amazing though. Gavin is taking a turn trying to calm him at the moment.”

I frown, slightly unimpressed – and perhaps a little jealous – that Secret Service agents are supporting Donna instead of me. “You want me to meet you there?”

“At the paediatrician?” Donna asks confusedly.

“Yeah,” I reply. “It’s a quiet day here.” That’s a bold-faced lie, it’s Monday and I have back-to-back meetings until 6pm. “You sound like you could do with some help.”

Donna pauses. “Okay,” she confirms. “We’re just about to leave Dulles. See you there in about 30 minutes?”

“Uh-huh,” I reply as I rise to my feet. “See you there.” The calls ends and I swing my office door open. “Carol?”

“You hollered?”

“Ben’s sick. Cancel my day.”

**Donna:**

“Hmmm…”

“Hmmm?” Josh exclaims. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Dr Parker narrows his eyes at Josh before returning his attention to Ben.

“Josh,” I whisper harshly. “Sit down.” He ignores me and resumes pacing.

“You said the symptoms came on rather suddenly?” Dr Parker asks me.

I nod slowly. “Yeah, he was a little fussy last night, but the temperature and runny nose started this morning just before we boarded our flight.”

“When did he last feed?”

“Ah, this morning. Seven-ish? Before we left for the airport. But he wasn’t really hungry…” I can feel a ramble coming on. “I was waiting to feed him on the plane, y’know so his ears would pop?” Dr Parker nods encouragingly. “But by take-off he was screaming and in a total lather of sweat.”

Dr Parker steps back a little. “Right, well, it’s a good thing you brought him in. His temperature is increasing rapidly and that’s hardly ideal for an infant.”

Josh flinches as Ben continues wailing, I can tell he hates seeing him so distressed.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” I assure Ben as I rub his head.

The doctor has stripped him down to his diaper, but Ben is flushed and coated with beads of sweat. I’ve never seen him this agitated.

“This looks to be just a simple cold, but I’m going to get the nurse to give him some baby paracetamol to try and lower the fever,” Dr Parker tells us. “But I’d be more comfortable if he could be monitored for a couple hours until the fever passes. Right now, he’s a prime candidature for a febrile seizure.”

“A seizure?!” Josh splutters.

“Josh. Cool it,” I instruct him. “Come here,” I urge him to take over comforting Ben and he reluctantly complies.

“Shhh, it’s okay Benny. Everything’s gonna be fine,” he whispers as he holds Ben’s tiny hand. I can’t help but think the words of reassurance are solely for Josh’s benefit.

“Transfer?” I fold my arms and look at Dr Parker.

“To hospital,” he confirms. “We don’t have the resources for in-patient care here at the clinic. At GW they can give him fluids and monitor his temp more closely.”

“GW?” Josh whispers.

“He’ll be fine, right?” I ask Dr Parker, ignoring Josh.

“He’ll be fine. It’s just to be on the safe side,” Dr Parker assures me.

I frown and look over at a very worried Josh. “We better tell Gavin,” I tell him calmly. “They’ll need to lock down the hospital.”

“Donna,” Josh bites his lip as he cradles our screaming son in his arms.

“It’s just a cold, Josh. It’s not a big deal,” I shrug but my heart is pounding wildly in my chest.

**Josh:**

This place makes my skin crawl. I hate it. I hate the reek of antiseptic and phenolic that fills the air. I hate the sound of saloon doors swinging and the incessant squeak of rubber soles on linoleum. I hate the sight of digital monitors and teal scrubs. I hate how it reminds me of the absolute worst times of my life.

Donna pulls my hand from my lap and clutches it tightly in hers. I let out a deep breath that I didn’t know I was holding in and gently squeeze her hand in return. A nurse is inserting an IV line into our infant son while he wails and thrashes his limbs. I can’t watch, so instead I peer through a gap in the curtains to a Secret Service agent waiting just outside the cubicle, I see him shift uncomfortably on his feet, the shrill noise of a child in pain must be getting to him. God knows it’s getting to me.

It’s only by chance that I’m actually here. I thought Ben was just cranky, I didn’t realise he was actually sick enough to be in the emergency department.

“Okay, all done,” the bright-eyed nurse announces.

Donna immediately drops my hand and rushes to Ben’s side. “You’re okay, honey,” she tells him softly. “It’s okay,” she gently presses a kiss to his forehead.

“We’re just giving him some saline,” the nurse continues. “He’s a little dehydrated.” I nod and mumble a thank-you as she begins clearing up. “The doctor will be by again soon. They might try to push some more Tylenol, but his temp’s looking good – no increase since he came in,” the nurse smiles before leaving.

I nod again numbly and make my way over to Donna and Ben. “You okay?” I manage to croak out.

Donna doesn’t take her eyes off Ben but slowly nods. “I fucking hate this place,” she mutters.

I’m hardly alone in my detest for George Washington University Hospital. It was only a few months ago that Donna was strapped to a gurney in this very emergency room, losing blood by the pint and wondering whether our baby was going to make it.

“Me too,” I snake an arm around her waist and pull her closer. “It’s just a cold, Donna.”

Donna sighs and continues staring down at Ben. He’s calmer now, more settled with his Mom beside him and the Tylenol and fluids taking effect.

“It happened so fast,” she tells me in a soft voice. “I just thought ‘Oh, he’s coming down with something’, I didn’t think…” she trails off and I can see tears in her eyes.

“Donna, it’s fine. You did everything right. Babies get colds and fevers. It happens.” Donna shakes her head and I move my hand from her hip, up to her long blonde hair. I pull her head towards me and press a soft kiss into it. “You need to stop worrying.” I whisper.

“You’re one to talk,” she replies as she leans into me.

I let out a little chuckle. “Okay, we _both_ need to stop.”

Donna sighs again. “Oh god,” she shakes her head. “When the paediatrician was talking about febrile seizures…”

“God, tell me about it. I nearly had a fucking fit myself,” I groan, shaking my head.

“They don’t give you instruction manuals,” Donna laments.

“You don’t need one. You’re a pro,” I tell her. “Me on the other hand…”

I feel Donna smile against my chest and take the opportunity to kiss her head again. “I missed you guys so much,” I tell her quietly.

Donna’s breath catches a little. “I’m sorry I was so…” she trails off. “I dunno,” she admits.

I bite my lip. “We should talk.”

Donna pulls away from my embrace. “Yeah,” she rubs her hands over her arms.

“We’ve been pretty shitty at the whole communication thing lately.” I lament.

Donna raises her eyebrows a little and smirks at me. “Later,” she says side-eyeing the agents on the other side of the curtain.

“Yeah.”

The curtain suddenly opens and the ER doctor returns. “How’s everyone doing in here?” she asks. “Those fluids seem to have helped. The fever’s going down too. If all stays on track, we’ll have you folks back home in a couple of hours.”

**Donna:**

After six agonising hours in GW’s emergency room and a stop at the pharmacy, we’re home. One slightly sick but out of the woods baby in tow.

“I’m impressed,” I fold my arms and grin at Josh. “From the car seat to the crib with no tears.”

“He’s down for the count,” Josh tells me. “How you doing?”

I shrug. “Tired. Hungry. Emotionally exhausted. Just the usual.”

Josh sighs and collapses onto the sofa. “Big day,” he groans.

“Yeah,” I agree. “You want dinner?”

Josh turns and raises his eyebrows at me. “I guess,” he sighs again. “Thai?” he suggests.

“Yeah,” I agree.

“I can sort it,” Josh stands up and makes his way into the kitchen where the stacks of take-out menus are kept.

“K, thanks. I’m gonna unpack our stuff,” I glance over to the pile of luggage by the door, it’s the last thing that I feel like doing right now, but it’ll annoy me if I don’t sort it.

Josh pokes his head out of the kitchen. “Why don’t you take a bath first?” he suggests. “By the time you’re done, dinner will be here.” I look at Josh strangely. “What?” he asks.

“It’s just… I mean, that’s actually not a bad idea,” I tell him.

“Believe it or not, Donna, I am capable of the odd good idea,” he smirks with that devilish glint in his eye that is just _so_ Josh. “Go,” Josh instructs. “Embrace the window of opportunity while Ben’s asleep…”

“You sure?”

“Go!” Josh tells me. “Pour some of that smelly crap you like in it,” he grins.

“K,” I laugh.

The bath – it turns out – was a truly excellent notion. I’ve been in here for forty minutes now, soaking my tired limbs and allowing myself to relax.

I’m feeling well and truly at ease when I hear a quiet knock on the bathroom door. “Yeah?” I call.

“Dinner’s here,” Josh tells me through the door.

“Okay, I’ll be there in just a minute.” I reluctantly pull myself from the tub and dry myself off, before shrugging on my fluffy pink bathrobe.

When I step into the hallway I find that the pile of luggage by the front door is no longer there. I pause and inspect the empty space for a moment.

“Um, I unpacked for you,” Josh tells me before clearing his throat. “Is that okay?”

I study him for a second. “Yeah, of course. Thanks.” I join him at the dining table.

Josh pushes a container of chicken Pad Thai towards me. “I put the dirty laundry in the machine,” he says. “All of Ben’s stuff is in his drawers, but, ah, I didn’t know where your stuff went, I just left it on your bed,” he smiles sheepishly.

“Thanks Josh,” I pat his hand gingerly.

“All good,” Josh shrugs. “Figured you’d just want to get to sleep.”

I sigh. “God, I’m completely wrecked, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep a wink.”

Josh smiles sympathetically. “I know,” he agrees. “I just went and checked his temp. Completely normal.”

Josh insisted on buying a state-of-the-art point and aim thermometer when we were picking up Ben’s prescriptions from the pharmacy. It enables you to check the baby’s temperature without disturbing them at all. It’s completely overpriced and unnecessary if you ask me, but Josh is clearly the target market for this kind of stuff: a wealthy, terrified first-time parent.

“You’re going to be in there all night doing that aren’t you?” I smirk.

Josh shrugs. “I worry,” he admits. “Don’t pretend you weren’t about to go check yourself…”

I grin and snatch a deep-fried spring roll off Josh’s plate. “I bet you ate crap like this every night we were away,” I chide.

Josh beams at me. “I missed your cooking,” he says with a sly grin before pausing and looking away. “That’s another reason you shouldn’t move out,” he says quietly.

“Another?” I narrow my gaze. “Are you making a list or something?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Something like that,” he mutters.

I think my jaw is hanging open. I have no idea how to respond to that, but thankfully I don’t have to. Ben’s wails soon fill the air and Josh is immediately out of his seat and striding down the hall. “I got it,” he calls. “Eat your dinner!”

“They don’t tell you it’s gonna be this hard,” I sigh as I sit back in the rocking chair.

It’s nearly 11pm and Ben is awake yet again. Currently he’s fighting sleep in my arms – writhing and yawning and whimpering – he’s completely exhausted and not himself.

Josh shoots me a sympathetic smile as he leans against the doorframe. “It’s not always this hard,” he reminds me. “In fact, you usually make it look easy.”

I sigh again and look back at Ben. “He’s out,” I tell Josh. “Well, for now at least…”

Josh begins to pad his way over to me. “You want me to try put him in the crib?”

Ben has now outgrown his bassinet that he once looked so small in, and is sleeping in his own room. It’s crazy how time flies.

I shake my head. “Too risky,” I tell him. “Besides, I like having him sleep in my arms.”

Josh smiles weakly before taking a seat on the carpet, his back pushed against the crib. “You’re too sentimental,” he says with a knowing look.

“He’s gotten so big,” I protest. “I’ve got to make the most of these moments.”

Josh shakes his head wearily. “Yes, days like today, really ones to treasure…” he mutters sarcastically.

“Josh,” I roll my eyes.

He smirks at me. “I’m kidding,” he drones.

I simply shake my head in response. “You’re not really,” I tell him with a smile. “You’re tired.”

“You’re not?” Josh counters.

“Go get some sleep,” I instruct him. “I’m good here.”

“So am I,” Josh replies but there’s something in his tone that makes my eyes lock with his for just a second too long, I quickly tear them away and find myself feeling flustered.

There’s a heavy silence in the air for a while and I can feel Josh’s eyes still burning into me.

“It’s late,” I tell him.

“I know,” he says in a gravelly voice.

“Thanks for today,” I say before finding the courage to look him in the eye again. Josh shrugs at me but I see his lip turns slightly upwards with a flicker of a smile. “You really just dropped everything, huh?”

He shrugs again. “Of course, Donna.” I bite my lip and look back to Ben. “To be honest, I was dying to see you,” he says softly. “I wanted to explain…” he shakes his head and lets out a sigh.

“Josh,” my voice almost catches as I speak. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” he insists.

“Maybe,” I shrug. “But I don’t want to hear it,” I take a breath. “I can’t _bear_ to hear it.”

A flash of pain and guilt flashes across Josh’s face. “It was just dinner, Donna. A couple of times,” he insists as he steps towards me.

I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. I mean, I don’t want to date…” he trails off. “I just thought…” he groans. “I don’t want to hurt you. God. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you.” His arms are flailing as he attempts to explain himself.

“Josh,” my eyes are tightly closed.

“Let me explain. Please, let me explain,” he begs. “Nothing happened! I swear. I couldn’t bear to do anything, Donna. I couldn’t bring myself to…” he pauses. “I just want you. I _only_ want you.”

We’re both crying now – big, silent wet tears that get caught in our throats and streak down our cheeks.

“And it’s okay if you don’t want me,” he says in a low voice. “I mean, it’s not _okay_ , but it’s okay,” he trails off.

Through my tears, I snicker at his ineloquence. 760 verbal, my ass.

“I just need you to know that I do. Want you, I mean,” he says.

I open my eyes and find him eyeing me anxiously, still sitting on the floor with his elbows balanced on his knees. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

And with that said and done, Josh pushes himself up from the floor and slowly pads his way out of the nursery and down the darkened hallway to his bedroom.

_29 May 2007_

**Josh:**

“You’re gonna be late for work,” Donna eyes me curiously as she walks into the kitchen. She’s just jumped out of the shower and is wringing her damp blonde hair with a towel.

“Oh, I’m not going in today,” I tell her as I lean against the kitchen counter. “You want coffee?”

Donna ignores my question. “You’re not going in?”

I shrug. “Ben’s sick,” I explain.

Donna smirks. “He’s fine today, Josh. No fever, just a little tired and grumpy,” she tells me. “I’ve got him, you can go in.”

I shrug again. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” It’s not exactly a lie. Ben woke up almost every hour on the hour last night, which meant Donna and I were awake too.

Donna shakes her head amusedly. “Who’d have thought…” she teases.

“What?” I grin.

“Nothing,” Donna shakes her head. “You made coffee?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I gesture towards to pot. “Decaf,” I assure her as she grabs a mug from the cupboard. Donna stills and I watch as she bites her lip. “What?” I demand jokingly.

Donna simply shakes her head and laughs as she pours the coffee.

**Donna:**

“You reckon we’ll get a full night’s sleep tonight?” Josh asks.

I roll my eyes. “Doubt it,” I take Ben from Josh’s outstretched arms. “How was bath time, bud?” I ask. “Did you have fun with Daddy?”

Josh folds his arms and leans against the door jamb. There’s a towel hanging loosely across his hips and his muscular chest is dotted with beads of water.

“Bath time nearly put Daddy to sleep, didn’t it Ben?” Josh grins.

I realise I’ve been looking a little too intently at near-naked Josh so I quickly tear my eyes away and focus on the job at hand – dressing Ben in his pajamas.

“I know the feeling,” I tell Josh as I fasten Ben’s diaper. “As soon as he’s down, I’m going to bed.”

“I must be getting old,” Josh laments. “I used to be able to work 18, 20 hour days no sweat. But now…” he shakes his head.

“20 hours on the campaign trail is a hell of a lot different to 20 hours with a screaming baby,” I tell him.

“I guess,” Josh shrugs.

“Plus,” I continue as I button Ben’s pajamas. “There are plenty of ways to relieve stress and tension on the campaign trail,” I lift Ben up from the changing table and settle him on my hip. My eyes meet Josh’s and my words seem to hang in the ear between us. I hesitate as I take in Josh’s dropped jaw, before gliding – seemingly nonchalantly – towards Ben’s crib. “Bedtime story?” I suggest.

Josh has regained his composure and is at my side. “He’s fading,” he says softly as he gently strokes Ben’s chestnut curls.

“Just the lullaby then,” I agree as I lay Ben down in the crib.

Josh closes the nursery door carefully before letting out a sigh of relief. “Success,” he beams.

I chuckle. “We’re getting good at this,” I tell him as I walk towards my bedroom.

“Indeed,” Josh grins as he watches me. “Off to bed?” he questions.

“Yeah,” I nod.

“Okay. Goodnight,” Josh says with a smile of resignation.

My hand stills on the door handle. “Josh?” I hear myself say quietly.

“Uh-huh?”

“Do you wanna…?” I tilt my head towards the bedroom.

Josh’s eyes widen. “Um…” he starts.

“I just thought that maybe your back was giving you trouble…” I shrug in an effort to appear calm and collected.

He nods slowly. “Yeah,” I can tell the cogs in his head are whirling at a million-miles a minute.

“And, y’know, if Ben’s awake all-night again,” I explain.

“Right,” Josh nods and swallows a gulp.

“It’s closer,” I shrug again.

“Yeah. It’s closer,” Josh agrees.

“So?”

“Okay,” Josh smiles apprehensively.

“Okay,” I echo as I open the bedroom door.

I feel Josh place his hand on the small of my back as we walk towards the bed.


	22. Chapter 22

_2 June 2007_

**Josh:**

“So, you haven’t visited a therapist in over eight years?” There was a slightly amused intonation to his voice.

“No,” I sigh. “Well, yes, _technically_. But, no, I guess it’s been eight years since I’ve been here.”

“Technically?”

“I’ve spoken to a psychiatrist on and off,” I shrug. “A trauma specialist,” I offer by way of explanation. “I have PTSD…”

“Right,” my therapist sits back in his chair. “And that’s why you’re here today?”

I shake my head and look away. “No. Not exactly.”

“Right, well, when you’re ready,” the therapist smirks and looks at me expectantly.

I hunch my shoulders and look away. “I’m not a fan of this,” I admit as I stare at my shoes. “Talking about my feelings,” I expand. “But, I think not doing it has been getting me in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“I dunno. It’s just complicating things,” I wring my hands and avoid his gaze.

“You must already have a rather complex life, Mr Lyman.”

“Josh,” I correct him.

“White House Chief of Staff, Counsellor to the President…” he lists. “New father.” I steel my gaze on him. “D.C. is a small town,” he smiles. “Let’s not waste time on the small talk. Why don’t you just tell me what’s really going on?”

I pause and swallow a gulp. “It’s about Donna,” I begin.

**Donna:**

“Hey,” I hear Josh’s voice call as the front door clicks shut.

“We’re down here,” I call in response.

I hear him pad his way down the hall as I attempt to dress an extremely wriggly Ben.

“He just wake up from his nap?” Josh asks as he leans against the doorframe.

“Uh huh,” I reply as I click the domes on Ben’s onesie. “And he is rearing to go…” I pick Ben up and thrust him into Josh’s arms. “He knows something’s up…”

Josh grins down at Ben and snuggles him closely. “It’s a very exciting day, Benny,” he coos. “Your first swimming lesson!”

Ben babbles and thrashes his pudgy limbs around excitedly.

“Everything go okay?” I ask as nonchalantly as I can.

“Yeah,” Josh bites his lip and refuses to meet my eye.

He saw a therapist this morning, for the first time in years, probably. It was his idea, and I think he was planning on me not finding out. But, in typical Josh fashion, he blurted it out this morning. I’d only asked him if he wanted pancakes for breakfast – it’s a kind of Saturday morning tradition in the Moss household that I’d quite like to make a Moss-Lyman household ritual too – but, instead of telling me he had somewhere to be for a couple of hours, he came out with an incoherent string of words that made it look as if he were covering up a crime. Then, upon seeing the utter confusion on my face, he sighed and said, “I have an appointment. With a therapist. I need to sort myself out…”

I, for one, am thrilled that Josh is speaking to a professional about how he’s feeling. With some expert advice, he may just be able to calm down a little and think more clearly.

I nod slowly. “Good,” I tell him.

“You ready to go?” Josh changes the subject.

“Almost,” I push past Josh and make my way down the hall. “I’ve just gotta throw a few things in a bag. Do you want to put him in the car?”

“Sure,” Josh replies.

Another great development this week is that Josh’s Secret Service detail has been officially disbanded, so we’re free to roam without armed bodyguards trailing us. I’ve been able to drive the Jeep and take Ben to all sorts of new places, without having to give advance warning or allow the place to be ‘swept’ before we enter it. The newfound freedom is incredible.

“You know where you’re going?” I ask Josh as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Uh huh,” Josh reaches up to adjust the mirrors before turning the key in the ignition.

“And you haven’t forgotten how to drive, right?” I tease.

Josh rolls his eyes. “I’m all good, Donnatella,” he assures me.

I grin at him. “All I’m saying is that you have some very precious cargo onboard,”

Josh meets my eye and his gaze suddenly becomes intensely serious. “Of that I am well aware,” he tells me.

I feel myself blush under his intense stare and I look away suddenly as he turns the Jeep into the street.

“Thanks for doing this, Josh,”

He shrugs. “Of course,” he replies. “Wouldn’t miss it,”

“When’s the last time you were in a pool?” I prod.

Josh smirks. “God knows,” he admits.

“You tried on those new swimming trunks I got you, right?”

“Uh huh,” he keeps his eyes on the road. “Thanks,”

“And they fit?” I question.

“Yes, Donna,” Josh laughs and shakes his head at me.

“What?”

Josh bites his lip. “You crack me up…”

I roll my eyes at him. “Surely you’re used to me micromanaging your life by now,”

“I’d be lost without you,” Josh tells me somewhat sarcastically.

We continue on towards the pool in comfortable silence. The dulcet tones of NPR talkback humming in the car stereo. We’re almost at our destination when I Josh speaks again.

“Donna?”

I turn my head to look at Josh but his eyes remain fixed on the road. “Yeah?”

“I realised this morning that I haven’t spoken to a therapist in over eight years,” he chuckles.

“What about Stanley and the other ADVA guys?”

Josh shrugs. “I don’t think they really count. I mean, that was about Rosslyn. A specific event and its aftereffects. It wasn’t really ever about me,” he bites his lip. “If you get what I mean?”

I nod slowly. “I guess,”

“I used to see a guy,” he tells me. “Around the start of the first term. After my Dad…” he trails off.

“I remember,” I used to make those appointments for him. We used a code in his diary – ‘Tennis with Dave’.

He glances at me and then looks away again. “Yeah, of course you do,” he says quietly.

“Did you see the same guy today?”

“No,” Josh shakes his head. “I tried to get an appointment with him, but he retired a couple of years ago or something. Had to see a new guy,” he laments.

“Is that a problem?” I ask.

Josh shrugs. “No,” he tells me quietly. “Not really, I guess. I mean, my old guy probably wouldn’t have remembered everything anyhow. I would’ve had to rehash it all anyway…”

“And you’d have preferred not to ‘rehash’?”

“You know,” Josh smirks. “You’re really nailing the therapist tone, Donna.” I roll my eyes at him and he switches back into serious mode. “It’s hard getting someone up to speed,” he admits. “There’s a lot to catch them up on. Joanie, Dad, Rosslyn, Leo…” he trails off before turning to look at me. “You,” he says quietly.

I feel myself blush again. “Josh…”

He smiles weakly. “It’s good,” he assures me. “I think it’ll be good. I need to get some stuff off my chest,”

“Yeah,” I agree. “It’s good,”

Josh turns in the swimming pool carpark and sidles into a park. “Donna,” he says quietly.

“Uh huh,” I reply as I undo my seatbelt.

“Maybe you should talk to someone too?”

I meet his eyes and smile broadly. “I am,” I assure him.

“You are?”

I shrug. “Well, I’ve started up my ADVA appointments again,” I explain. “Just over the phone, a couple of times a week.”

“Right,” Josh nods slowly.

“I’m okay,” I assure him. “I just want to make sure I stay that way.”

“Right,” Josh doesn’t look convinced.

“I really am okay, Josh,” I rub his arm reassuringly.

“I know,” Josh tells me. “ADVA’s good, but if you want to talk about other stuff, we can figure that out…”

I smile broadly. “Okay, Josh.”

“We could even go together sometime. Maybe. If you wanted to,” he shrugs.

I grin at him. “Did your therapist recommend couples counselling per chance, Josh?”

Josh looks away. “Not ‘couples’ counselling per se…”

“Right,” I feel my cheeks redden once again. “We should go in,” I quirk my head towards the pool.

“Yeah,” Josh agrees.

**Josh:**

“You look good,” Donna smirks at me as I make my way out to the changing rooms.

I roll my eyes at her and pluck Ben out of her arms. “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter.

“It’s not often that your legs see the light of day,” Donna grins. “Still, you’re not quite as cute as Ben,”

She’s right – he’s looking positively adorable in his swimming outfit.

“You couldn’t have bought _me_ swimming shorts with cartoon sharks on them?” I tease as I take Ben from her arms.

“You jealous?” Donna grins.

“Lil bit,” I grin. “What time does this get underway?”

“Five minutes or so,” Donna replies. “Remember, it’s a group lesson, so be nice,” she says pointedly.

“I’m always nice!” I insist.

Donna raises her eyebrows. “Seriously, Josh,”

“What?” I grin.

“Haffley’s here,” Donna whispers.

“What?!” I exclaim a little louder than expected. I really don’t want to be stuck in an infant swimming class with my least favourite Republican of all time.

“Shhhh,” Donna glares at me before peering over my shoulder. “Oh, fuck. He’s coming over…” she quickly turns away.

“What? Donna…” I demand but I’m interrupted by a booming voice behind me.

“Mr Chief of Staff, what a surprise to see you here,”

I turn and plaster on a fake smile. “Speaker Haffley,” I start. “Good to see you,” I reluctantly shake his outstretched hand.

“You too, Josh,” Haffley smirks. “Wouldn’t have ever pegged you as a family man,” he tells me as he balances a baby of his own on his hip.

I feel my nostrils flare a little. “This is Ben,” I tell Haffley. Babies really are the greatest deflection.

Haffley glances at Ben and smiles. “Strapping young fella,” he grins. “This is Hannah, she’s our youngest,”

“That’s great,” I reply with faux enthusiasm.

“Your first?” Haffley gestures to Ben.

“Uh, yeah,” I reply.

“I didn’t even know you were married,” Haffley grins.

Donna suddenly returns to my side. “I’m not,” I reply through clenched teeth, suddenly all too aware that Donna is standing next to me.

Haffley knows I’m not married. Haffley knows I’ve recently become a father. It’s his job to know.

“Oh, of course. You liberals…” Haffley chuckles. “You remember my wife, Jenny,” he gestures to the woman beside him.

“Hi Jenny, nice to see you again,” I smile politely. “This is Donna. Donna Moss,” I say awkwardly.

“Ah, yes, Miss Moss,” Haffley beams. “I remember now. You’re Josh’s secretary,”

“Assistant,” Donna and I correct him simultaneously.

“Former assistant,” Donna continues.

“Right,” Haffley smirks.

“Nice to meet you, Donna,” Jenny smiles. “What a gorgeous son you have,”

“Thank you,” Donna smiles warmly. “Hannah is beautiful,”

“She keeps us busy,” Jenny grins. “Just wait until you have three…”

“It must be quite the handful,” Donna replies politely.

I look on silently as Jenny and Donna get swept up in casual ‘Mommy’ talk.

“So, you’re trying to play happy families, huh, Lyman?” Haffley smirks as he jostles his daughter on his hip.

I narrow my gaze and feel my lip quirk upwards. “You really can’t turn it off, can you?” I shake my head. “Not even with a baby in your arms,”

“What?” Haffley demands.

“The politicking,” I tell him curtly.

“Hey, now, don’t go questioning my commitment to family. I mean, I’m not the one who knocked up my secretary…” Haffley whispers menacingly.

“Fuck off, Jeff,” I mutter in response.

Haffley’s nostrils flare, but he’s interrupted before he can conjure up a response. “Class is starting!” Jenny announces cheerfully, clearly oblivious to her husband’s mean streak.

I pass Ben to Donna and pull my t-shirt over my head.

“Be nice,” Donna hisses, clearly sensing my frustration. I roll my eyes at her and trade my t-shirt for Ben.

Haffley’s right beside me as I walk towards to pool steps, Ben tucked tightly in my arms.

“You know something, Lyman…” he starts.

I turn to glare at him and see his gaze shift to my uncovered chest. His eyes rest on my jagged scar for a moment before he remembers himself and quickly tears them away. I don’t think I’ve ever been out in public shirtless since before Rosslyn. I hadn’t even given my scar a second thought, but now I feel thoroughly exposed.

“Spit it out, Haffley,” I sneer angrily.

He shakes his head and looks away. “Forget it,”

I glare at him again before wading into the shallow pool with Ben cradled in my arms. “Come on, buddy,” I say quietly as I press a kiss into his hair. “Swim time,”

“Alright, parents and babies, welcome!” The swim instructor announces. “I’m Javi and over the next twelve weeks I’m going to work with you to build your infant’s water confidence and safety, while also providing an irreplaceable bonding opportunity for you and your child!”

The instructor is way too perky for my liking and I don’t recall agreeing to twelve weeks of swimming lessons. I cast an exasperated look in Donna’s direction, but find that she’s too engrossed in capturing the moment on film to register my annoyance.

“Now, for our first exercise, we’re going to pair up with another parent and baby,” Javi, the swim instructor announces.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” I hear Haffley mutter.

It seems I may have stumbled upon the one issue on which myself and Speaker Haffley can agree on.

**Donna:**

“Photos look great!” I tell Josh excitedly as he drives us home. I flick through the digital display and my heart melts. Ben thoroughly enjoyed his first swimming lesson and is now fast asleep in his car seat. After him being so sick the other week, I’m overjoyed to have my bright and bubbly boy back.

“Uh huh,” Josh sighs and frustratedly runs a hand through his wet curls.

“You okay?” I switch the camera off and await his response.

“Uh huh,”

“Josh?”

“I’m fine,” he tells me curtly.

“Obviously I didn’t know that Haffley was going to be in the class…”

“It’s fine, Donna,” Josh insists. “It’s not that…” he sighs before shaking his head at the traffic. “Jesus, look how backed up it is. We’re not gonna get home for ages,”

“Josh…”

“What?”

“It’s a Saturday afternoon, Josh. We’re not in a rush,”

Josh rolls his eyes. “Uh huh,”

“What’s really going on?”

“Nothing,” he drums his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. “I’m just tired,”

“Right,”

“Haffley’s an asshole,” Josh remarks.

“Well, yeah,” I side-eye him a little. “That’s hardly a revelation,”

“He kept calling you my secretary,” Josh shakes his head.

I look at Josh confusedly. “Is that really what’s bothering you?”

“Well, that and he thinks I’m a bastard for not marrying you,” Josh tells me.

I chuckle and Josh whips his head around to face me. “That’s why you’re upset?!” I laugh.

“It’s not funny,” Josh insists.

“You really care what Haffley thinks?” I exclaim. “The man interprets the bible so literally that he negates the existence of dinosaurs! If it’s his approval you’re after, I don’t think you’re gonna be getting it anytime soon.”

Josh shakes his head and grips the steering wheel tighter. “It’s not just him,” he tells me. “It’s everyone,”

“It’s not,” I roll my eyes. “It’s 2007 – most people don’t care about that stuff anymore. And, it’s not as if you’re a deadbeat Dad.”

Josh shrugs. “Okay, maybe not _everyone_ cares,” he sighs. “But I do,”

“Josh…”

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“God, you go to one therapy session and suddenly you’re an open book…” I tell him dryly.

“Donna,” Josh rolls his eyes.

“Lighten up,” I nudge him with my elbow.

“I’m trying,” Josh insists before furrowing his brow. “I just need to know that it’s not completely off the table,”

“What?” I ask confusedly.

“Marriage,” he replies plainly.

“Oh,”

Josh sighs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he mutters.

“No!” I hear myself exclaim. “I mean, I don’t know, Josh…” I take a breath. “Christ. Can we just figure us out first? I mean, nothing’s off the table, but nothing’s _on_ the table either…”

Josh eyes me curiously. “Right,”

“You’re hard to read, you know?” I tell him quietly.

“ _I’m_ hard to read?!” he exclaims incredulously.

“Okay, I get it, I’m not so easy to read myself,” I groan. “I just…” I pause and take a deep breath. “I just don’t want this to be like Easter all over again,” I admit in a low voice.

I watch as Josh gulps. Neither of us say anything for a moment, and I can see the cogs whirling in Josh’s mind.

“It won’t be like Easter again,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry that I hurt you,” he keeps his eyes dead set on the road as he weaves in and out of traffic. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” Josh bites his lip and then exhales. “It seems so fucking stupid now, Donna, but I really thought that I was avoiding hurting you.” He really is an absolute idiot at times. “It won’t be like Easter again. I’ll never do that to you again,” he says in a low tone.

“Josh,” I sigh and stare out the passenger window. “You can’t say that. You don’t know. Neither of us know,” I feel tears pricking in my eyes. “We’re doing all the same things we did at Easter…” I shake my head dubiously.

“Well, not _all_ the same things,” Josh smirks.

We're not having sex. We're not randomly kissing. We're not gazing lustfully at one another...

“You know what I mean. We’re sharing a bed every night. We’re doing ‘coupley’ types of things.”

“Like parenting?!” Josh exclaims.

“Josh,” I say his name in a serious tone and it stills him. “We need to go slow. I don’t want us to rush into anything and have it all blow up in our faces,”

“Yeah,” Josh agrees. “That’s pretty much what my therapist said,” he laments.

“And you’re rebelling against that advice because…?”

Josh smirks. “I don’t like being told what to do,” he admits.

“Your self-awareness is at an all-time high today, Lyman,” I tease him.

_5 June 2007_

**Josh:**

“Joshua,” Helen’s voice rings out across my office.

“Ma’am, come on in,” I force a smile as I stand up from my chair.

“Helen,” she corrects me with her arms tightly folded against her chest.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask smugly.

“Don’t play cute with me, Lyman,” Helen snaps. “You know exactly why I’m here,”

I nod slowly. “I mean, I have a feeling…”

Helen rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’re insufferable,”

“You wanna take a seat?” I grin.

Helen shakes her head but sits down across from me anyway. “I can make your life hell, you know,”

I nod slowly. “Yes, Helen, I know,” I tell her honestly.

“And, I haven’t yet,” she tells me. “Out of the goodness of my own heart…”

“Uh huh,” I nod again.

“But, also because you may actually be right,” she sighs.

I smirk at her. “Uh huh,”

“I’ve fired them,” she tells me plainly. “All of ‘em. Or, _reassigned_ , whatever it is that I’m allowed to do…”

“You’re the First Lady, Helen. You’re allowed to do whatever you want,” I smile.

“Well, Josh, we both know that’s not quite true, don’t we?” Helen counters. “I’m allowed to do whatever it is that _your_ office deems acceptable for me to do,”

I bite my lip a little. “You really got rid of all of them?”

“Uh huh,” Helen smooths out the fabric of her dress. “I’m going to hire an entire new staff,”

“Really?” My eyes are wide, and there’s a slight hint of mocking in my tone.

Helen chooses not to pounce on contempt

“Yes,” Helen beams. “I’m going to have a staff with actual policy acumen and enough backbone to stand up to you. That way I might actually achieve something while my husband occupies the Oval,”

“Okay,” I say slowly.

Helen bounds to her feet and starts pacing up and down my office. “I’m so sick of my staff sending me to tea parties and ribbon-cutting ceremonies,” she explains. “And when I finally do get them on board a policy initiative that is perfectly benign enough for the First Lady to be peddling, it gets shut down by my husband’s Chief of Staff,” she stops to glare at me before she continues her pacing.

“I mean, it was really more Sam than me,” I shrug.

“It was at your behest!” Helen says sternly.

I rub the back of my neck anxiously. “Childhood obesity is a great policy initiative for you,” I begin to explain.

“I know!” Helen yells again. “It’s perfect!”

“Right,” I bite my lip. “Your team just didn’t do enough to allay the West Wing’s trepidation. There wasn’t enough the back up the platform. Plus they hadn’t even bothered to establish the relationships they need in the West Wing to get this kinda thing across the line,” I shrug. “If they were serious about the initiative, they should have put it on our radar months ago. We would’ve held back key announcements in healthcare and education to align them with the policy,”

Helen shakes her head. “Yes, Josh, I know all that, that’s why I’m putting a new team together,”

“Great, well, I’m glad we cleared that up,” I smile. “Unless there’s anything else you need, Helen, I should probably be getting back to work…”

Helen holds up a hand to silence me. “I need some good policy people,” she starts.

“Well, you’re certainly not taking any of mine,” I tell her adamantly.

Helen glares at me. “I’m sure you have names,” she begins. “People you’ve worked with over the years, shining stars of the public service…”

I shrug. “I mean, I can have a think about it and get back to you, or make some calls, I guess,”

“Good. You do that,” Helen nods. “But, I was actually wondering whether you think Donna would be interested in a job,”

I look at her confusedly. “Donna?”

“Uh huh. I think you know her. Mother of your child, secret love of your life…” Helen smirks as I blush and look away. “Ringing any bells?”

“I dunno, you’d have to ask her,” I shrug. “You guys are friends, right?”

“We are,” Helen agrees. “I just wanted to get your sense of things. Is she interested in coming back to work? Is she well enough right now? And, I mean, you were her boss, does she have the policy chops for a role in my team?”

I nod my head adamantly. “Donna’s brilliant,” I insist. “She’d be perfect in your office. What were you thinking of? Making her your Press Secretary?”

“I figured as much,” Helen smiles. “I haven’t thought too much about a specific role,” she shrugs. “But you think she’d be happy to start working again?”

“Are you kidding? She’s going stir crazy,” I grin. “She keeps swiping my papers so she can read something other than picture books…” I laugh. “But, yeah, she’s been looking for a job for a while now, you should talk to her about it,”

Helen smiles warmly at me. “And you’d be okay with her back in the White House?”

“Would you care if I wasn’t?” I ask cheekily, but Helen simply rolls her eyes. “She’d be a real asset to the East Wing,” I assure her.

“And she wouldn’t fall under your chain of command,” Helen says. “So there would be no issues there, should you want to _fraternize_ or something…” Helen quirks her eyebrows at me and walks towards the door.

“Should’ve moved her to the East Wing years ago,” I mutter to myself. “Would’ve solved a whole lotta problems…”

“What was that?” Helen asks as she opens the door.

“Nothing,” I grin. “Good to see you, Helen,”

“You too, Josh,” Helen smiles warmly. “Thanks,”


End file.
